Atana realized two flaws in her thinking. The first occurred, as she just about jumped out of her skin, as the lightning cracked striking one of the ship masts and made an exploding sound as the rain water that ran down it turned almost instantly to steam. Being in the rigging of a sailing ship in a thunderstorm was dangerous. If who ever controlled the undead was smart, they wouldn't climb the rigging. They just needed to wait for the storm to either shake her free or electrocute her. She was fairly sure that the captain and every other sailor would let her know how stupid she was for going up in the rigging. The second flaw was when she realized that no one had her back. 

An archer noticed her and loosed an arrow cut a grove across her arm. She turned her her cannon balls on the weakest bones she knew of in the human body, the collarbone. Her master had told her it was painful when it broke and easy to strike. If skeletons were like people they would have a hard time raising and drawing their bows. If they were purely magical constructs, she would know when it let loose the next arrow at her. She sent the cannon balls in high and arching down, she tried to get as small as she could.