Laughter was swallowed up by the all-engulfing roar of the drop (or was it part of the roar?)
A hand tugged on Caiside's, still quite invisible but then again, so was he? Apparently? That water-y feeling persisted, but he was able to move. Hands in his hair, on his chest, shoving his back with youthful vigor, smiles pressed against his palm.
"Chase us, Caiside!" They cried, and before him the leaves were upturned as if several pairs of small feet were suddenly darting forward.