If somebody did come by, Frisk would shoo them away--and they'd get angry. They haven't let themselves get mad at all since the start of everything, not on the outside, but if somebody interrupted this nice music time with a kid that was wound up tight enough to nearly break...well, that wouldn't help anything.

They really hope they're left alone.

"That's good, I think." They take the small cello and skips around for the bow, wasting no time before they try to play--

--letting out a note so loud and ugly that Frisk nearly drops it.

"...That was too much." Force and enthusiasm. "Sorry."