"Yup." Frisk nods as they chow down on their own food, not minding the odd difference in flavor at all. If they could get behind water sausage hot dogs, they could get behind whatever meat their meal was made of. Food was food. "I wish I could say this is all confusing and frightening, but my Weirdometer has gotten pretty out of whack these last few days, so arriving in space-except-not-really on a ship that looks more like something out of a mangaka's bad concept art than something actually capable of flight barely registers anymore."