Storm Watch Butte gunslinger I

they might as well have both been clinging to the proverbial tower of babel, for all briggs could make of the rolling and completely foreign syllables that sailed through the winding sand to strike his folded ears.
two explorers with a language barrier, great. 
love? love??
colt was intrigued beyond himself; paw over paw he let himself down the side of the butte, reaching blindly through the shoals of sand roaming their atmosphere for fur, an arm, anything; and when the man felt he had grasped a solidness, he dragged forward, inching backward upon a ledge with the barest overhang over it, a smallest shelter in the teeth of a beige funnel-cloud.