Medusa poked at the fire with her stick and huddled closer to it, as close as she dared. The female had a good relationship with fire, relying on it many times in her life to keep her alive and warm and in business, as it were. She relied on fire to melt the glass she used to craft vases and sculptures. She trusted the small fire she had to not burn her, at least not as badly as her father had been burned.
She flicked her fingers through the tips of the flame, feeling the warmth but not the burn. She smiled slightly and withdrew her hand into her cloak. Ksenija had gone off somewhere, so Medusa was alone in the chill of the night with naught but her snakes and her small fire. She thought of the Russian woman and her smile became brighter. They were a good pair, she knew. They both were strong enough to care for each other and keep safe together. Once they joined the pack, they'd be able to possibly... Mate.
Medusa thought briefly on that prospect when she heard sounds approaching from the border. An all white woman questioned her closeness to the borders and then said who she was. Ayasha. A pretty name for a pretty woman, the golden woman mused. "I am Medusa... she started carefully. Her English was no where near the best. "I and friend of mine want for to join Anathema." Her accent destroyed the pack's name, pronouncing it 'Antma'. "We is for learning of pack before we are to join them." she finished, proud of her English.
She noticed the bird, and though it was small and far away, she whimpered quietly and moved to opposite the fire of it. She wished nothing to do with it, would prefer it be gone. Medusa and birds were not on good terms, the nasty feathered beasts they were.
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