Medusa was lazing around, perfectly at ease beneath the tree when she realized a bunch of annoying birds were screeching at her. She opened her eye and stared at the birds angrily and was vaguely amused when they quieted down, perhaps sensing the madness inherent to her or just being cowed by the mean look. She hoped it was the severe look of disappointment she leveled at them, wanting to nap in the shade.
Of course, it was hot as the punishland in her homeland's legend, so she'd rather sit in the cool shade and listen to the birds raising a fuss than sit in the sun and stare them down, so she curled up into a ball again and was just about to doze off when she heard someone approach. Flicking a golden ear, her eye swiveled to look at the grey-and-silver man -- how like Ksenija he was in coloring-- and her ears followed suit at his comments.
She lifted her head, careful to keep the unscarred side towards him as she nodded. Medusa was a vain creature, used to having good looks before they were taken from her by that eagle. Birds. The female hated them all. She nodded again at what the man said and then opened her delicate maw to respond. "Is like to very hot, yes. Medusa does not like the heat as so very much as she does the cool." Her English was still broken as ever, the native Serbian not really bothering with learning it properly, but she knew it well enough for him to be able to understand. She hoped.
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