Nova Mortis is playing scales, though at such speed and with such precision that it hardly sounds like the product of an idle hobby. She's absorbed in it enough that she doesn't notice Natalia right away — but after a moment, she becomes keenly aware of the sensation that she is being watched, and her fingers come to a sudden halt, the music dying off with a squealing note.

Was she being too loud? She's still getting used to how to work this magic guitar. She ducks her head, though the lace mask already conceals most of her face.

"Sorry..."