The tone in his voice, the subdued gratitude, is enough to tell her that Papyrus is in no way oblivious. He's refusing to face the reality of what's happened to his brother. Willfully optimistic isn't at all the same thing as stupid or ignorant. Rosethorn sighs. She isn't sure whether that's better or worse. She's never been especially optimistic. She saw some of the worse parts of human nature in her own house, growing up. Papyrus' worldview is so alien to her own, even if she is an idealist.

It isn't long before she's rapping her knuckles at the door, the soft hitch still audible in her breathing when he opens it evidence that she did hurry here. Rosethorn isn't made for hurrying anymore. She speaks and moves slowly and deliberately by necessity, not by choice.

"I'm sure his roommates are grateful you came." Rosethorn is too, especially since said roommates might have cleaned up this dust without ever knowing what it came from. "Are you ready to go, or is there anything else you need here?"