It is a pathetically human reaction to simply run and hide when no other option presents itself. They it turns away in apparent boredom, to face something that is familiar but then is not.

If it were a thing that would smile, it would have done so. Satisfaction roils off it like an unholy stench.

What a lost little thing this broken puppet is. In the moments between its steps forward, he they have shifted from standing before it to looming behind.