Flycatcher Downs a stunning dress of hellfire

Cole watched the subtle movements, catching the nuance in her gestures. The nods, the shrugs—everything fell into place with her final motion, a pointed gesture to her ear, mouth, and throat. The clarity dawned on him, not with pity but with understanding. His gaze softened.

Well,”he rumbled, his tone pitched lower as though instinctively adjusting for her inability to hear. A deep hum of thought followed. He let the silence settle before offering his first attempt at simpler communication.

A grunt. Short, affirming, as he nodded toward the landscape they both occupied.

He pointed to himself. Cole, he said, emphasizing the name with a low growl of sound. Another grunt, questioning, as he gestured toward her.

It was not seamless, but Cole was nothing if not adaptive. If this was the way she could best understand him, then he would oblige.