Frustrated with how poorly she’d been able to produce the feel of Haziel’s name in her throat and in her mouth, deaf Nahal took time alone in order to practice. She must have attempted the name hundreds of times! Her throat felt sticky and, no surprises, unused. Eventually, she stumbled upon the syllables with the familiarity she’d once had with them. Oddly, they did feel different even though they rolled off her tongue in the same way. The vibration of her throat were longer and came from a deeper point than she was used to. Maybe maturing had had something to do with the change?

With her first form of a word confidently practiced, Nahal rushed back through the trees of Glorall. Nimbly - but not terribly quietly - she dodged under branches and skipped over logs and stones. Her nose twitched as she tracked Haziel’s latest scent. When she caught a glimpse of his handsome dark fur, she broke stride and padded up to him. Contently, she sat a few feet away from him with her tail tucked over her paws.

”Haziel.”

The word felt smooth in her throat. She hoped it properly conveyed the importance of him, just as she hoped it would forgive her blunder when she’d arrived in Glorall. Being impaired in her way was no excuse for acting naive or accepting mediocracy; Haziel diserved far better than that. Satisfaction settled her fluttering heart. Though she could not hear, her ears popped forward towards her brother in an expression of eagerness. Her violet blue eyes were round, watching for his reaction - the only confirmation she had that she’d pronounced his name well.