[The face is by far the most obvious thing. He's moving stiffly, thanks both to the days in the short cage and some run-ins with mannequins in these tunnels so far. A bit of a limp, but mostly, the other strange thing is how he's holding his arms just a little away from his torso, not letting them rest against his ribcage. His clothes aren't tight enough to reveal why.]

Nyheh heh... heh. Yes, of course I did. Any moment then. [There's a windedness to his forced laugh, and his heart isn't quite into the self-aggrandizing praise. It feels like he's been running around for hours, and he's tired and running low on the little stockpile of bones he's managed to build over the days.

He doesn't dare be as sincere in his relief at seeing Sans as he feels, because if he starts crying again it'll make escape that much harder. And he doesn't even dare hug his brother to make this feel real, because his sides already hurt. But he can let on to his relief a little:]

But, I appreciate it anyway. Especially if, um... you have a way out. You have a way out, right?