Bramblepoint the world we know is turning

She was used to repeating herself, what with her speech impediment, though she didn't have much patience for it. "I'm deaf, remem—" she began to say when he cut her off and called her an ass. He enunciated it so clearly this time that there was no mistake. Towhee's eyes screwed up again as she glowered at him, though her curiosity was greater than her irritation.

"Titmouse?" she asked baldly as he reclaimed his skull. She had no idea he was still talking, as there was certainly no reading his lips with that thing plugging up his mouth. (Even wolves with perfect hearing probably couldn't understand him.) "Is that your name?" He certainly looked the part; not only did he look like a grownup version of the pup she dimly remembered, he also looked almost exactly like his namesake bird. Not unlike Towhee herself.