Gale was expecting Katniss, and he only paced a little before telling himself to just stay still. But he'd never been good at sitting on his hands and neither had she - it was one of the multiple things they had in common, more than just looks. The dark hair, the grey eyes that were wary and pale as a winter's lake iced over, the weights they bore on their shoulders that people their age should never really have to be concerned with at all.
He doubted they would get back to the way they used to be in a day - there was too much to hash out, too much that had happened - but he wanted to at least try. Talking seemed to be a good first step. Gale still loved her, though not in the way Peeta did. He loved her as a friend, as someone who could never be replaced.
"It's - okay, I guess," he shrugged, clearing a space on his bed for her to sit down. Lugging around a cot was very Katniss though, he wasn't surprised at all. "Nice cat," he added, with a ghost of a smile. Interesting that it just appeared in this spooky old house - he didn't trust that even creepy manors found cats cute, though. "Just, you know. Make yourself cozy."