Stone Circle louder than god's revolver and twice as shiny

Somehow, his response cuts at her as deeply as if she had not expected it. The air vanishes from her lungs, chest tightening as if it might explode, and for several moments she's speechless. She swallows again, blinking burning tears from her eyes as she stares at the grey-furred boy. Grey like his father. An ugly feeling uncoils itself within her at the thought, and she thinks of the pale girl in the meadow with a shiver. Grey, just like Greyback, but so much easier to be rid of. But he isn't Greyback, is he? Not any more than Merrit is Stark (despite his best efforts). Finally, she takes a breath.
Sing, She corrects shakily, lowering herself slowly into a sitting position. That's — the right word. You can sing to me. She isn't certain whether she's giving him permission or simply correcting him. Both, maybe. She takes another breath, and this time it hurts. What's your trick?