for gold and glory

“Well, my feathers actually grow and fall out in periodic cycles. If I’d known you wanted them, I could’ve collected my feathers for you as they fall out, and you could have a nice collection the next time you saw me.” Medusa's ears perked and she tilted her head as the blue jay spoke. “However, it hurts when my feathers are plucked out before they’re ready to fall out on their own. So? You understand? If you asked and waited, you could have a whole bunch of feathers without causing me any pain at all. Unlike how you got that feather next to your paws.” "Oh..."

She didn't know that's how it worked with birds and feathers. She looked down at the feather at her paws for a couple of heartbeats, brows furrowing as the cogs started turning in her head. She...understood. It was an explanation that had been explained simple enough, and a stranger she had just been mean to, had taken the time to explain it to her in a way she understood.

“But because you were mean, I acted mean. Because nobody likes pain, right? You don’t want people to rip your whiskers out of your muzzle. I don’t want my feathers ripped out. But they fall out on their own, so if I wanted your whisker and you wanted my feather, we could trade. Not that I want your whisker. But that would be a fair trade, right? And both parties would be happy. No meanness.” "Medusa is...sorry. Medusa didn't know it hurt when she pulls feathers, she doesn't want to hurt pretty birds the way Habari hurts Medusa," She looked up at the bird, head ticking to the side for a brief moment as she stewed on what the bird had just told her.

"Speech"