Northstar Vale Dammit Tubbs, not again

Never did her eyes leave the boy, for she was too curious to pull her gaze away. His step towards her was welcomed with a gentle sway of her tail, her mind still set upon appearing as amiable as possible. As of late, her intentions were hardly anything but to come off as friendly and make an acceptable first impression upon strangers. In a way it was her normal behavior, but a bit more exaggerated than usual. The goal she had in mind and was focused upon completing was the culprit, though it was unlikely she'd become any less cordial once the mountain had been claimed.

The silence led her to suspect that she might have met another mute, but she held back on acting upon such beliefs for the time being. Various noises—some of which that sounded utterly painful in her opinion—began to exit the boy's throat, possibly demonstrating an attempt to speak. All the while he worked to find his voice, she kept quiet but attentive, not wishing to force anything out of him. If it was time he needed, she would gladly give it to him, as she suspected he'd been through a lot. The loss of his voice was the only evidence she had to support her working theory, because that in itself, to her, was a sign of mistreatment. Whether it be self-inflicted or caused by another, she could not imagine someone who was sociably healthy could lose their voice unless they'd never had one to begin with (or, you know, flu season struck).

When he was finally able to find his words, her ears fell back upon hearing his voice. It sounded hoarse and even a bit agonizing, making her regret having expected him to speak in the first place. "It is not," she answered, her own voice soft from constant usage. "Are you well?" While she did not wish to make him speak any longer out of fear of how it felt for him, her instincts as a medic would not allow her to sit idly by. If something was wrong, she wished to assist in any way possible.