The small pastel unicorn that rounds the fence and skids to a stop beside Catra doesn't seem particularly perturbed by the sword, at least. It prances in place, bugling a greeting as much as a challenge.

"Who are these people fighting?" Catra doesn't quite take her eyes off of Thace and the floating sword, though she casts a warily suspicious glance towards Mom's house. If logic can be applied to any of this, war has to be the most logical explanation, both for the training of the creatures and the conscription of strangers.