The grabbing at clothes reminds Papyrus of his brother's naked state, and he politely looks away. Not too far, just enough that he's not watching.

"Mmm... Mari," he admits. It's strange, talking about the possibly-deceased. "A nightrider. Or maybe the nightrider? It was a very indefinite indefinite article."

The way the one dog is looking at him... Yeah, he's feeling pretty unhappy about everything in this conversation too, pup. Maybe it'll help if he gives pets? Worth trying, and he reaches down to scratch at its skull.