Catra lets her hands drop into a familiar position. She's done this before, she remembers. You know, back in the time they used to be friends? Closer than that, maybe. She practically looms over Adora, unsure of what she's doing or why. She should leave. Would that help? They're both stuck here and there's only so much space before they'd be running into each other at meals all the time. Or here, in the training room.

"Well, good. Because I was always the weak one, remember?" Before Adora left. Before Catra messed it all up trying to outdo her, trying to prove to herself that she didn't need Adora and that she was better. But she wouldn't have done it if Adora hadn't left, so whose fault was it, really? She stays quiet through the rest of the set, waits for Adora to set the bar back where it belongs.

"Though, I hope I'm good enough to be your sidekick again. You know, like the good old days." She regrets the words as soon as she says them but it still hurts. All of it hurts. The guilt. The feeling of being abandoned. The idea that Catra still isn't good enough and could never be good enough now. It all sits in her gut like a stone, refusing to be moved.