The wretched stink of oil clogged in her nostrils may be making Catra want to both simultaneously puke and pass out, but that doesn't stop the high pitch of her yowling as she makes life incredibly, impossibly hard for Adora. Catra doesn't have the brute strength necessary to break Adora's bear hug, which isn't fair. It isn't fair that Adora's gotten taller than her, or that she's been able to pack on more muscle than Catra. Slipping out of her grip used to be easy; used to be just a matter of going limp and sliding out of her arms and scampering away. Scrabbling for her freedom should not be this hard.
"I haven't even gotten undressed!" Because Adora knows she'll make a break for it if she's allowed to. Catra doesn't care how ratty and matted her hair gets, she doesn't care if she's stuck covered in motor oil for the rest of her stupid life. She has already suffered her two showers this week, and she won't be forced into another. "You can't just throw me in there!!"
Catra's always kept her feet on the ground when wrestling Adora, but that was back when they were the same size. Now -- she has to improvise, and both of her legs wind around Adora's, locking tight around her knees. Brute strength doesn't count for much if you can't move, and if they both fall over because of this -- Catra's willing to take that hit.
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The wretched stink of oil clogged in her nostrils may be making Catra want to both simultaneously puke and pass out, but that doesn't stop the high pitch of her yowling as she makes life incredibly, impossibly hard for Adora. Catra doesn't have the brute strength necessary to break Adora's bear hug, which isn't fair. It isn't fair that Adora's gotten taller than her, or that she's been able to pack on more muscle than Catra. Slipping out of her grip used to be easy; used to be just a matter of going limp and sliding out of her arms and scampering away. Scrabbling for her freedom should not be this hard.
"I haven't even gotten undressed!" Because Adora knows she'll make a break for it if she's allowed to. Catra doesn't care how ratty and matted her hair gets, she doesn't care if she's stuck covered in motor oil for the rest of her stupid life. She has already suffered her two showers this week, and she won't be forced into another. "You can't just throw me in there!!"
Catra's always kept her feet on the ground when wrestling Adora, but that was back when they were the same size. Now -- she has to improvise, and both of her legs wind around Adora's, locking tight around her knees. Brute strength doesn't count for much if you can't move, and if they both fall over because of this -- Catra's willing to take that hit.