That smile's nice, but it's only a moment before Frisk's grin morphs into something more alarmed. "Did? Are you guys alright?" The use their elbow to point at where he'd felt, since their fingers are preoccupied.

A gust of wind sends the kite in a little spiral, Frisk wrenching their hands to make sure it didn't careen into the castle wall. "And how're you settling, even without...croc fighting?"