In a sense, Elliere does talk with her hands — she uses them to draw, and draw she does indeed. Her fingers dig in to the sand with startling expertise, smooth lines unfolding in her canvas of choice as she tries to relay her thoughts. There’s no denying that she’s carved out a clock in the smooth, grainy surface, but what comes after that is anyone’s guess… and if there’s anything Gold’s known for, it’s not taking a hint.
But there’s another thing he’s known for: his intuition. Wordlessly, the Trainer sets his partner back down as he comes close to Elliere, tapping a knuckle against his lips in careful thought. He looks to Cyndy once, the girl twice, the clock three times, and…
What then?
'—seven in the morning? Seven P.M.?' he tries sceptically, reaching forward with the same care Elliere showed before. He doesn't add to her drawing, but he augments it: he taps a neat hole in the space just outside the clock's ring, highlighting the rough number. 'Can you not talk until then? Or…'
… but no; that can’t be it. It’s too simple, and anyway — aren’t there simpler ways for Elliere to get that across? Course there are. Gold makes a sound of frustrated wonder as the cogs in his own mind turn, grinding slow and sure and not that fast at all. So they were talking about… talking, and he asked her if she could talk with her hands, and…
-hands?
This whole thing feels like he’s puzzling over a riddle, and he can’t deny it’s kind of exciting; it’s like being back in the ruins again, trying to solve ancient puzzles of the unknown. Boldly, Gold traces the lines Elliere’s made for both the hour and minute needles, thinning his lips.
‘“Hands…” like… clock hands? Do you use these hands to talk?’ The boy looks for her to confirmation — and after a silent number of seconds have passed, he smiles embarrassedly. ‘No, there’s no way, right?
'… right?'
♠ » Elliere felt as if even she was at a loss, for her drawings were nonsensical doodles in the sand. She thought for a moment, as she did not know what the words even meant. Perhaps a chant? Ah, but she did not know how to write either, so that would not be possible.
She faced him, hands to talk? Did they not already settle this question? To this she pouted slightly, her eyes as if telling him, 'Of course not, idiot!', or something like that. Her face softened and went back to the diagram... her hand went to erase the arrow, then she redrew the arrow going clockwise on the clock, up to the seven. Something like that...
Elliere pointed back at the indentation, at the seven. Something about seven (Turn seven times, by the hand of the clock, one hour). But it was something about talking. Elliere thought about the memory, how to convey it to Gold. Something about her past that bothered her, so. She had not remembered hearing her own voice, yet she knows it well, right? Is that how it usually goes? Pondering, pondering, pondering--
Whirr, whirr, the key on her back turns and stops at an uncomfortable diagonal.
--pondering... The girl's legs were beginning to get numb, so silently, she moved over to one of the two swings and sat on the cold wood of the thing. Her hands grasped the metal chains, causing a ruckus. Tired, but was not done with thinking about that quote. Her mouth opened. 'Click, click, click.' out came forth, but she quickly closed her strange vocals.
Her hand formed a point, and as if drawing on the air, she went clockwise (counterclockwise to whom was watching) seven times. Then she shrugged, not sure of what it meant. She nibbled on her cracked lips slightly, thinking. A mystery that seemed right there, yet sort of far.
