Sans has to put a pointed effort into hauling himself back into consciousness, having dipped dangerously close to falling asleep just then. Okay, so Greg called off the alarm. Good. Now he just... medical. Right, okay. He's got this.

It takes a few moments of concentration, but all at once the ravaged grass outside of the main gates will vanish in favour of the two of them arriving next to a line of tents - specifically, nearby where the medical tent is centered. It's not for him, though. His problems have another, easier solution.

"Go get patched up," he rumbles softly, unsteadily pushing himself up onto his feet. His tail sways back and forth, trying to help keep his balance. He assumes the human is not usually supposed to look that red. Eh, nothing for it. "I got it."

And that's it. He starts wandering off towards the treeline, already starts to let bits of dust shed as he goes.