Adora goes down with a yelp, back thudding against the ground. "Catra," she groans, leveling her with a hard glare -- but Catra meets it with that glint to her eye that always makes Adora's stomach flutter, and any further protests die on her tongue. Her body sinks into the grass, yielding.

Adora swallows, then licks her lips-- her mouth is dry but her throat is wet, and a warmth spreads steadily up from her neckline as she takes the sight of Catra in. She's sure the vengeance she's about to set upon her will be nothing short of diabolical, and she'll be begging forgiveness before long. Truly, Adora's in no position to be mooning over her girlfriend right now. But that doesn't change the fact Catra's pretty, breathing ragged, face flushed. Or that her shirt's still riding up, drawing Adora's eyes like a magnet. Or--

Adora's look of silent awe crumbles with a sudden giggle-snort, and the electricity in the air cuts short.

"Sorry, it's just-- you've got leaves in your fur-- let me get that for you." She reaches with one hand, to pluck swiftly at Catra's arm before patting down the bared corner of her stomach. All that rolling in the grass had gotten all sorts of nature-dirt stuck to her, and we can't have that. Just give her a moment...

"Okay, you're good," she announces after a moment, smoothing down the hem of Catra's shirt. "Go on."