[Look at that girl and her feathered snake. How precious. Beckett makes no attempt to dodge her look, in fact looking back squarely. Why, yes, he communicated with your big long coatl. He's pretty special, you know.]

You're a very tolerant feathered serpent of the gods, [he idly lets Roy know.] I'm sorry that I don't happen to be carrying any turkeys.

[He could try to offer it blood... but he could also just go on ahead and chuck himself into the pit and save Tess the effort.]

And he manages with the weather? Cold blood isn't fun, I've been informed.