Hermann's actual voice, spoken, was comforting. Newt was human, and he could be talked to as such, despite the beauty in their connection.

{ Qubit is totally an alien. Don't rain on my parade, man. I have balloons and floats and marching bands all lined up and here you come telling me I'm wrong? }

He stuck out his tongue, not far enough to be threatening or even vaguely reminiscent of either Otachi's or a snake's, but effective at communicating playful displeasure. Then he shuffled back a bit, narrowed his eyes--all eight--at Hermann, and very delicately plucked the ring from the dirt with the tip of a claw.

{ I don't care what point you were trying to prove. This thing is too good for dirt, okay. Mine. My shiny. My Dragon's Hoard. Put it on a chain or something, holy shit. }

Newt held the ring out to Hermann, precariously balanced on the end of a claw.