Catherine heaved a sigh and stared at him for a moment, "I don't like riddles." Then she turned back to the tank. She could hear the tell-tale sound of hands on the ground so she was hardly surprised when he was puppeting his foot at her. It took a lot of effort not to laugh or crack a smile. "Ruby slippers?"
Finally, he righted himself and she could resume looking dour. "Your mind is the only one that's constantly open and, let's be honest, more than a little cracked - even more so, recently. These things like to slip in between cracks and fester," she stated as if she were the supreme expert. She wasn't, but if she talked like she was, most people believed her.
She turned, sitting on one of the low guard rails that kept people from getting too close to the tanks but she purposely kept her hands from touching it. She should have worn gloves. It was a mistake not to. So she had to hunch to keep her balance, hands twisted in her lap. She did not notice Ana but then, she wasn't really looking in the first place.