"It's different, Catra!" Adora's listless disposition simmers with a rising wave of frustration, and she throws one arm out beside her as she speaks, the other clinging to Melog. "I still agree with her. I'm never going to see her as the villain in the story, the way they do. It's-- it's--"

She trips over her own thoughts in her fluster, struggling to explain the gravity of the situation to the person closest to her, who, from her flat expression, simply does not seem to get why this is a big deal.

"You heard the way they talked about She-ra. What I believe, what I know to be true, those things don't matter. It's not about Mara being bad, or me being bad -- I know why things happened the way they did. But I can explain our reasoning to them until I'm blue in the face and it won't change a thing. It won't undo what their people went through. It won't take their pain away."

She pushes the words out in a rushed, fervent stream, each one scraping against her sandpaper-throat. An idle thought surfaces: I wish we'd stayed for tea, but she quickly stamps it down.

"Look--... Don't you get it?" She searches Catra's eyes, halfway to pleading. "It was the same for you, too."