Banshee
"It looks like she liked your music, Your Highness." the familar girl comment, and Slade smiled sheepishly.
"You think? Aha, I'm not anything special though. I haven't any way to play music right now, but perhaps another time, okay?"
'He didn't understand,' Banshee realized with dismay. 'Of course he didn't understand. That would make things too easy, wouldn't it?' She sighed softly. So close and yet so far.
Turning to the Doctor, Banshee reached through the bars and touched the sleeve of his coat (causing him to jump as he'd not realized in his excitement about her speaking that he'd gotten within an arm's reach of her). Truly if she so desired Banshee knew she could've killed this man. It would've been easy in fact. But he was not her Target, nor was there any musical indication that she ought to kill him. So instead she grasped the hem of his sleeve and looked at his startled face intently. "Doctor, teach the words - how to speak." There was a note of pleading in her voice. At this moment in time, she was reliant on him, and she added a word that she'd heard many other times during her missions. In Banshee's experience it was typically used when one was pleading for their life, but it was one that represented this desperation nonetheless. "Please."
The Doctor turned to Prince Slade, looking somewhat stunned. "I didn't teach her how to say please or thank you yet," he breathed, then as his eyes turned back to Banshee there was a look of resolve. "She learns and makes connections between words at an abnormally high rate. It's evident that, though no one has ever sat down and taught her the meaning of words, she is not unfamiliar to language itself." He turned and bowed before Slade, speaking with obvious excitement. "Your Highness, if you'll give me one week I can have her conversing like anyone else in the kingdom."