She unclenched her hands in the absence of song and instead of being instructed on how to create those sounds she felt a little cut loose. Her eyes narrowed at him in irritation and then darted back to the sea kings who's movements had slowed down even wounded as they were. She braced herself and took a deep breath of air, filling her lungs before letting out something similar to a wail. An attempt at the banshee sound he'd made. Her body tensed and she tried to adjust the sound, had it been a little higher? Where was that pitch? She reached around for it again. Then adjusted the tone, it needed to be more nasal, grate on the nerves. It may have helped her that they'd been practicing so much because her throat was more under her own control now. She tightened the sound and glanced at the tea drinking skeleton for direction.