Sigyn didn't stop, but glanced back to see him out of the corner of her eye, which told her that he hadn't taken the phone out again. Even though it had beeped at him. The first time he'd taken it out to silence it, the second to rudely have a conversation, but this time he was ignoring it. Because he was focused on her. Oh dear. That wasn't the reaction she'd been aiming for.
“We were,” she conceded, choosing to overlook the fact that their definitions of wonderful apparently varied widely. “However I thought that conversation to be at an end when you began another on your phone.”
It was as close as she'd venture to outright calling him rude, because he'd done nothing to warrant any sort of vitriol. But Sigyn didn't appreciate being treated like a potted plant, to be set in the corner and ignored at a whim. So she wasn't going to simply let it pass either. Her comment was delivered in a calm and polite tone, and he could take it as he chose to. She didn't care all that much if he was offended. Maybe it would make him more considerate with the next person.
“As I said, you seemed very intent on getting the Morgan,” she explained. “And I have seen the horses I came to see. So I will leave you to your pursuit, and find myself a funnel cake.”
Through the entire exchange, Sigyn had not pause din her descent from the stands. And once on level ground, she simply kept walking. She neither slowed to accommodate the god that was following her, nor sped up to get away from him. Why should she have to change, when he was the problem?