If Catra were to be completely honest about it, she hadn't wanted to run into Anduin again. More than a considerable part of her wanted for that to be it, for that to be the final time that they met, and for him to understand that he shouldn't expect anything from her. While she had stayed in his house, back in the other place, for a couple of days, it didn't mean she owed him anything. Didn't mean anything at all except for the fact that she had already lost her own home and didn't care enough to turn down the offer.
When she stumbles on him now, playing in the dirt like a child, she almost turns around. Almost, almost, almost. She doesn't, however, because she knows that'll cast the wrong impression. As if he'd done something wrong or as if she were bothered by his very presence. That's not the case. He's weird and clingy, but she's not bothered by him.
"What are you doing?" she asks, pressing the knuckles of one hand against her hip.
His words go unacknowledged.
Melog steps away from her side to approach, lowering their head in expectation of a pat. They look the same as they ever have, although possibly a bit larger in size today.
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When she stumbles on him now, playing in the dirt like a child, she almost turns around. Almost, almost, almost. She doesn't, however, because she knows that'll cast the wrong impression. As if he'd done something wrong or as if she were bothered by his very presence. That's not the case. He's weird and clingy, but she's not bothered by him.
"What are you doing?" she asks, pressing the knuckles of one hand against her hip.
His words go unacknowledged.
Melog steps away from her side to approach, lowering their head in expectation of a pat. They look the same as they ever have, although possibly a bit larger in size today.