[ "Old fashioned" would be a fair way of describing it.

Once they're clear of the door, Merlwyb shuts it and locks it (for whatever protection it's worth), joining Sans in finding suitably heavy things to chuck into a barricade.
Man is it surreal to be sharing a shelter with a talking skeleton. She's not exactly sure what to think just yet. ]

Forgive me my bluntness, but what in Llymlaen's name have you done to stir them up so? [ Suspicious? A little. Monsters generally don't attack their own kind as far as she's aware. ] They are your kin, are they not?