"All right." A resigned Toby repositions herself behind Papyrus, planting her heavy tail solidly and her clawed feet apart. A good angle for not accidentally cutting someone, as long as he doesn't end up falling back into her knee blades. "This had better not hurt you."

Or stick to her hands. It's a weird, weird dream.

The merrow makes an incoherent warbly noise as Toby wraps both long hands around Papyrus's lower arm bones. On and off the skeleton in the water seems to have three short forwards-raked horns; it's confused by the proximity of two people with two different ideas.