One answer down. Whoever this is, they're definitely capable of impersonating other people. (Unless Catra thinks Adora is interested in herself, which--rude. She's not that arrogant, no matter how nice She-Ra's hair is.) If nothing else, Adora's getting more information than she thought out of this little infiltration mission, even if she's also getting far more than she bargained for overall.
Adora swallows hard when Catra's tongue darts out, thinking, just for a split second, that Catra might have had other plans for it. She still doesn't understand all of what Catra is implying, but it's a willful ignorance at this point--forcing down the realization slowly rising in the back of her thick skull, the foreign need pounding in her core like a second heartbeat.
It doesn't help when Catra grabs her, and Adora suddenly feels the whole world close in around the two of them; her entire existence being held hostage by the mismatched eyes staring furious daggers into her own. Objectively, she's not any more trapped than she was a moment ago, still wholly confident in her superior physical strength, but this is different. Whether it's logical or not, she's caught. Her skin prickles under the threatening press of Catra's claws, every hair on her body standing on end as she stares Catra down with a flat, emotionless expression.
"Do you really want to know?" It still feels wrong to lie about this, even if, again, it's not any of her business, just like what Catra does isn't any of Adora's business. (Though maybe it should be, if someone has been wearing her face the whole time.) But Catra is asking, and Adora has enough anger in her to make the answer sound like a come-on, almost without meaning to. "Try me."
Part of her thinks Catra will back down from--whatever this is. The rest of her knows better. Refusing to back down is what got both of them here in the first place, stuck on opposite sides of a war, miles away from what they once called home. From each other, most of the time. Maybe that second part is for a good reason, if this is what Catra thinks of her, these days.
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Adora swallows hard when Catra's tongue darts out, thinking, just for a split second, that Catra might have had other plans for it. She still doesn't understand all of what Catra is implying, but it's a willful ignorance at this point--forcing down the realization slowly rising in the back of her thick skull, the foreign need pounding in her core like a second heartbeat.
It doesn't help when Catra grabs her, and Adora suddenly feels the whole world close in around the two of them; her entire existence being held hostage by the mismatched eyes staring furious daggers into her own. Objectively, she's not any more trapped than she was a moment ago, still wholly confident in her superior physical strength, but this is different. Whether it's logical or not, she's caught. Her skin prickles under the threatening press of Catra's claws, every hair on her body standing on end as she stares Catra down with a flat, emotionless expression.
"Do you really want to know?" It still feels wrong to lie about this, even if, again, it's not any of her business, just like what Catra does isn't any of Adora's business. (Though maybe it should be, if someone has been wearing her face the whole time.) But Catra is asking, and Adora has enough anger in her to make the answer sound like a come-on, almost without meaning to. "Try me."
Part of her thinks Catra will back down from--whatever this is. The rest of her knows better. Refusing to back down is what got both of them here in the first place, stuck on opposite sides of a war, miles away from what they once called home. From each other, most of the time. Maybe that second part is for a good reason, if this is what Catra thinks of her, these days.