"Ugh, dogs," Catra bleghs, pulling a face. "Come to think of it, why does anybody want to wear werewolf fur to begin with? Aren't they just dudes that turn into big dogs? That's like the worst two things to combine."
The shopkeeper breaks from their patience to give Catra a bit of the evil eye, which Catra just ignores. She breaks away from the conspiratorial whisper-lean, and picks up the socks that Gabriel had put down. Ironically, they match her eyes perfectly, but she'd rather die than be caught in fuzzy blue and yellow socks. They do feel comfy, though, she has to admit.
It's probably a winter coat thing. Or, like this guy says, obscene amounts of shedding.
"I think I'd feel weird if my fur was being worn as someone else's socks," she says thoughtfully. "Doesn't that feel weird to you?"
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The shopkeeper breaks from their patience to give Catra a bit of the evil eye, which Catra just ignores. She breaks away from the conspiratorial whisper-lean, and picks up the socks that Gabriel had put down. Ironically, they match her eyes perfectly, but she'd rather die than be caught in fuzzy blue and yellow socks. They do feel comfy, though, she has to admit.
It's probably a winter coat thing. Or, like this guy says, obscene amounts of shedding.
"I think I'd feel weird if my fur was being worn as someone else's socks," she says thoughtfully. "Doesn't that feel weird to you?"