At first, nothing happened.

Then one of the curling tendrils hovering midair gave the smallest twitch. Slowly it uncurled just a touch more before stretching outward with surprising delicacy toward the boy’s [sweetpinkpixie] raised hand.

Tap.

A high five! One with a green leaf instead of a palm. In the space of a breath, another tendril looped gently around the boy's wrist. Then another. They wound like bracelets and tightened with the kind of mindless affection a clingy child might show. And then they tugged, pulling the boy towards the enchanted window and the pots buried beneath the greenery.

The bench behind them shifted again. Just a smidgen.