A light laugh answered Kharl's halting words.

A deep, booming laugh answered him, and a shovel-sized hand thumped him on the shoulder.

A low laugh answered her, followed by something that sounded remarkably like, "I'll give you aught to dream about, wicked creature from the grass."

Another warm and rich laugh answered his words.

A derisive laugh answered in his head, but the sound thinned and was gone.

A laugh, then a small, ragged chorus answered.

A fierce laugh answered from the blackness.

An evil laugh answered him, and he could feel the monk leaning closer in the darkness to rest an elbow on the jamb.

A laugh answered him from beyond the altar.