Chara's eyes slide to the other and back without their head moving, and then they slowly get up and move forward over to the instruments. Things without keys. Okay. That narrows it down.

It's not so much fun, exactly, but the ones with strings have a strange call to them as of this time, and their hands hover over the marbled wood of a cello before they glance back in Frisk's direction and then down. "Would one of these be sufficient? ...a moment, please."

They start hunting in the pile for a second one, because it simply wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it? There's a great deal of instruments, and even though they're taking care as they shift and look under things, there's the crash and clatter of a cymbal set falling over and they wince and stiffen, ears pricked.