Silences aren't uncomfortable when sounds are so often superfluous to her; people talk too much and it's a pain in the ass trying to keep their mouths in view. A long time ago (when you're twenty-one, five or six years is a long time), she remembers closing her eyes and letting conversations just wash over her. She remembers the things she picked up like that, just listening, not really paying attention.

It doesn't work like that any more. She has to be alert to communication, she has to watch closely, she has to account for the ambient noises that should warn her that she doesn't hear, or that begin to blur together. There is no warm rush of sound around her above the water, not any more, and she doesn't know a lot of people who can come to her and speak the way she's best designed to hear. (If any.)

Ilde treasures silence, and it's nice, to have company and drink weak coffee and be quiet for a moment.