"Sure, use the sword. You'll need the help." Catra teases back confidently, that silly little flutter happening in her stomach again as Adora leans into her. She can feel the quiet beginnings of a purr, and out here, just the two of them (and Melog, keeping watch somewhere nearby), lets it happen. Lets herself just watch Adora, her tail brushing the grass in fond sweeps, as she becomes so excited about her freedom. Catra feels it too, that eager anticipation to just go places and do things, but she always has. And she used to think Adora did too, because they used to talk about it. But always in context of the Horde; of war. The places they'd take back from the rebels, the victories they'd secure, the world they'd run. Seeing Adora now, excited to do whatever she actually wants to do...

...it reaches a part of Catra, deeper than she'd known was possible. Makes her feel an unyielding and stubborn surge of defensiveness; the kind that makes her feel stronger, protective. Nobody's going to take this from them, nobody is going to take this from Adora. Catra won't let anyone trap her ever again.

"Of course I know, dummy." At this point, there's no hiding the softness or warmth of her tone. Or the quiet, loving rumble in her chest as she shifts, so there's more of her to lean against than just her arm. She kind of wants to nuzzle into her, but that's still a step too far for Catra; so she settles for bumping her head lightly against Adora's in affection instead, dinner forgotten for the moment. "I think about it all the time. Don't tell me you're only just getting to that now?"