She holds up her hand, eyes narrowed as she peers at the tiny picture. Gods, but this is difficult. She's done it a few times before but lip-reading through the journal is headache-inducing at best and nigh impossible at worst. "Slow down and calm down. The battle will wait." Whatever battle he's speaking of, at any rate. She has a feeling it's something she hasn't run into yet. It always is.

When she is certain that she has his attention, she speaks again. "I need you to look at me and enunciate when you speak, you got me?" Once upon a time -- not too long ago even -- she might have muddled through without telling him what she needs from him, but that has caused more trouble than it ever alleviated.