Hushed Willows who speaks latin?

"Yes," Natasha said lowly, giving the boy a light growl. Get away from my ass, it seemed to imply— not that the boy would likely understand any implications. "We can make verbal acquaintances," she says, shifting in her spot so her hindquarters were away from his nosey-self. "I'm Natasha," she adds. It was not a pleasure to meet him, really, so she didn't tell him that either. 

In an effort to attempt to be kind— he was just a kid, after all— she tried to sympathize with whatever wound he'd gotten. "How'd you hurt yourself, Tam?" she asks.