[There's no mistaking that volume, once it pitches loud enough to rattle the tile beneath their feet. They're still lucky, they know - lucky that they didn't regress even farther than it possible. When the moniker of punk cracks out across the murk, there's definitely no doubt in their mind.]
[There's really only one thing she could be yelling at, too. Frisk skids to a halt, slips on a smear of dribbling white, and ends up flat on their back and out of breath.]
[They can only manage one wheezy, desperate protest, one hand upraised.] S-stop...
TINY UNDYNE YO!!!!!
[There's really only one thing she could be yelling at, too. Frisk skids to a halt, slips on a smear of dribbling white, and ends up flat on their back and out of breath.]
[They can only manage one wheezy, desperate protest, one hand upraised.] S-stop...