"Yes, it surely must," he agrees, with practiced enthusiasm fostering. "Dusk, with a billowing midnight cape..! I'll have to watch dusk fill the sky, and see if I see it like that."

It's been a couple weeks, but he's still only seen so many sunsets yet. Applying poetry to them hadn't begun to occur to him, not when he's still finding himself homesick and disoriented by the unfamiliar body and missing the people who should have been seeing the sun set with him.

Papyrus shivers just that little bit that would have been a rattle, before, and shakes off the feeling. Pulls up a practiced smile, and continues.

"B-But, in the meantime! I can tell you're a credit to your Poetry Club."