Re: The Cat: Rae and Kratos
The way Mimir and Atreus spoke of this world, the division between Kratos and the present was sometimes calculated in years and other times calculated in worlds. He rarely could separate which it was, whether he was simply old or the world he was from was different. The people here were constantly telling him he was Greek, for example, when he would never consider himself such. He was Spartan, from Sparta. They defined their world through current borders, and coming from a place where these things changed with war and seasons, he couldn't imagine it being so simple. Countries here were vast, truly. Kratos just shook his head and ignored it.
He didn't feel her conclusion required an answer, and looked away from her, again to the room. The television-crowd didn't require anything, and so glanced away from his unblinking gaze. He looked back at her. Neat, she said. He wondered if this meant also clean, or even plain. The shades of the language were beyond him, but he again did not feel it necessary to voice them. He knew how she liked her store, and this was to what she referred, perhaps.
Not related, she said. Yet they shared information about him, and not kitchen gossip. His heavy brows twitched.
To her last question, he did not offer an answer. He just looked at her and drank his watered wine.