Through the window, Sans rumbles out an amused laugh.

"Your line was 'who's there', but don't sweat it. Your joke was way funnier."

The next moment he's at the door, faster than would seem possible for someone who crosses the threshold into the abandoned home as languidly and unhurried as Sans does.

"Not to be nosy, but-" He indicates the richly colored cloth folded over in her arms with a quick gesture. "Who's the drip for?"