Sparks' laughter echoes for a long time before it finally fades.

Frisk doesn't want a fight, and they remind Hush of his Trainer--but Chara does, and this is their body--and Sparks and his Frisk can never resist a challenge if it's outright offered to them.

Hush can't predict Sparks' choice, nor Chara's--that's one realm of Psychic his kind isn't skilled at. It doesn't take such ability to believe this is being laid to rest so easily.

Magic. The attempt to hide it does nothing but catch his attention further; it, too, is packed away. They don't feel magic, but he's not as in tune with his Fairy side. Frisk might know. They certainly know more about monster magic through experience.

Are they okay?

The same memory of before, the group huddled together wild-eyed and afraid.

"You were gone."

Frisk isn't moving their mouth, yet it's still their voice.

"You were gone. Almost...all of you. And I didn't even know. I was--I was--"

Their not-voice is thickly laced with horror.

No, they're not okay, but it has nothing to do with the shoe strike.

Hush bows, and sends an image: Himself, bending to Frisk's ear with a hand cupped against his mouth. A whisper, a secret. He'll tell.