Catra is already sure that she hates this. The cake, somehow, is even less appetizing than what she's used to back home despite the better stuff (at least to her) in the mess hall. The drinks are small and just... meh. The people she's not sure about. Some of them she thinks are alright? Others, she doesn't trust as far as she can throw. And none of them, she has decided, are going to be allowed anywhere close enough to hurt her. Physically, that means taking up a small space and glaring at anyone who tries to get to close to her, which is awkward when she stands too near the table with the drinks and creates a Catra-shaped hazard.

The cake itself looks... barely appetizing, even by the standards of ration bars and even then she's pretty sure it has less nutritional value. So she avoids it, despite the exhortations to take some, on Jorgmund. Eventually, she circles the room, glaring at anyone unfortunate to bump into her.

"Back off--!"