Beschützer

"Got a light?"

"Is it still raining?"

"What's the time?"

"Do you smell something?"

"Is something burning?"

"Are you done with that?"

"What's going on here?"

"Can you believe it?"

"Anybody in here?"

"Know what time the next one comes?"

"What I miss?"

"Could you help me with this?"

"Who's there?"

"What's going on in here?"

"How long has this been going on?"

"May I have one?"

"Are you using this?"

Corvo cocks to head to the side at the peculiar question, but nonetheless, he considers a reply. He turns slightly, eyes roving over the shoreline of the beach before wandering closer to edge of where waves hit to snatch up a waterlogged stick. It’s turned within his grasp, examining the erosion of wood to make sure it wouldn’t snap under pressure put upon it.

He seems satisfied enough since Corvo returns to her and crouches down to begin writing in wet sand. It’s not his usual, neat handwriting as it appears more like that of a child’s, but it was the best he could do given his 'parchment'.

Eventually, he stands and steps out of the way, motioning to what he wrote with the stick. Blue was carved first into sand though crossed out when Corvo wasn’t happy with it— under it was his decided answer.

Corvo’s vocal chords were damaged from his time spent in Coldridge, though he may still be able to talk [scratchy, hoarse, and totally unused sounding] sometimes he rather his body language speak for itself. 

Bright side, he has sign language to compensate for his lack of voice, but even then it can be difficult to communicate with just a twist of fingers and wave of hands. Resorting to ink and paper is always an option as well.