More pleasant for sure. Maybe it's any of those things, or maybe it's the world briefly acknowledging that being a skeleton with fur is already unpleasant enough. Itching! Tangling! Maybe one day, though hopefully not, fleas?

Papyrus isn't complaining about the wings, in any case. Or about being in a hospital when it happened. There's no better place to be than a hospital, when you get injured, sick, or mutated by magic - as long as it's not super contagious.

But he does scowl - not at her, so much as at the description of the tension in the city, at the thought process people are displaying. "But there's a festival every month. About friendship! And love! And bonds. This is how they treat their new neighbors? Or their very old, very distant neighbors??"