She's never been so relieved for Adora to stop touching her. Catra's chest heaves as she sucks in a lungful of air, shoulders still shaking with the titter of a laugh as she exhales and curls up in response to the proffered hand. She can not look at Adora's fingers right now without some part of her spasming with leftover tickles.
Adora did deserve the bite, as unconsidered an action as it was, and despite the fatigue setting in Catra's tail lashes against the ground as she looks up to Adora with bright eyes.
As a cadet, she probably would have jumped up from this position to tackle her. But with age comes wisdom and better technique, so she presses her weight up onto an elbow, making as if to rise; and instead Catra swings her legs around to sweep Adora's from under her, using the momentum of the movement to quickly push herself up and onto her.
The end result? A familiar position, Catra's knees jammed into Adora's hip and thigh, both of her hands pushing her shoulders into the ground as her tail waves high and playful behind her.
"Oh, Adora. I'm fine." Even though her voice is rasping and breathy, even though she hasn't fixed her shirt of the mussed fur of her belly. Or, for that matter, any of the dishevelment that comes from wriggling around on the ground. Her hands knead into Adora's shoulders, the press of claws a natural reminder to not try any funny business, and Catra takes her voice's natural inclination to rasp to drop it into a purr as she leans forward, secure in her victory. "You should really be more worried about yourself."
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Adora did deserve the bite, as unconsidered an action as it was, and despite the fatigue setting in Catra's tail lashes against the ground as she looks up to Adora with bright eyes.
As a cadet, she probably would have jumped up from this position to tackle her. But with age comes wisdom and better technique, so she presses her weight up onto an elbow, making as if to rise; and instead Catra swings her legs around to sweep Adora's from under her, using the momentum of the movement to quickly push herself up and onto her.
The end result? A familiar position, Catra's knees jammed into Adora's hip and thigh, both of her hands pushing her shoulders into the ground as her tail waves high and playful behind her.
"Oh, Adora. I'm fine." Even though her voice is rasping and breathy, even though she hasn't fixed her shirt of the mussed fur of her belly. Or, for that matter, any of the dishevelment that comes from wriggling around on the ground. Her hands knead into Adora's shoulders, the press of claws a natural reminder to not try any funny business, and Catra takes her voice's natural inclination to rasp to drop it into a purr as she leans forward, secure in her victory. "You should really be more worried about yourself."