She had been staring out at the damage just in the back, utter dismay on her breath and in her thoughts, but not yet absorbing the thoughts of having to put it all to rights again. Aside from the uprooted or crushed plants, the damage to the garden telling novels of each blow and crash of the two combatants, that she had been physically unable to ignore or miss. The desire to heal and regrow the plants, tomatoes to berry vines to flowers.
Under her fingertips, the lightest touch of them on his cheek, Isaiah's skin was warm, and reminded her that she wasn't sitting and still looking out over the demon's handiwork.
She nodded, there was at least no need to verbalize the answer of her believing that it was the demon's doing. There was the slim possibility it had to do with the vampire, but she could not see a reason why he would change her language, even if he could. Especially not to one that he himself was speaking. Attributing the small measure of currently lasting chaos to the demon instead was easier, for at least the vampire had not even attempted to harm her, although he had the easy opportunity to do so.
Again, Raina nodded, glad at least that she could understand his speech, which eliminated the possibility that her entire language capability might be scrambled, not simply her speech. Oma's thought-words were a different category of communication, and so had weighed in differently on the situation. The thin wave of helplessness that washed over her, although plainly visible in her eyes and in the set of her mouth, was not one that Raina enjoyed in the slightest.