"You shouldn't eat that," Adora's voice came from a few steps behind Catra, where she'd left her half sitting, half-leaning on a boulder to rest while Catra refilled their canteen.

Catra hadn't actually planned to eat the small red fruit she was rolling contemplatively between her finger and thumb, but now she fought the urge to shove a handful of them into her mouth.

"Why not?"

"It's a red moonberry. They're poisonous." Adora pushed off the boulder, wavering a moment with her hand on her side before closing the distance between them with slow, careful steps. Catra's gaze flicked down involuntarily. The red cloth of the bandage visible through Adora's fingers was almost entirely soaked with a darker, more dangerous red.

Adora leaned over her shoulder to better see the fruit. "Unless it's actually a bloodberry. They look really similar."

Bloodberry, really? Whoever named these things wasn't exactly subtle. "Let me guess," Catra asked dryly. "Also poisonous?"

"No, actually, that one's fine."

"I'd like you to know that whoever named these things really sucks at their job."

Adora ignored her, brow furrowed like it always was when she had a thought. "Although, maybe the moonberry is only poisonous for humans. I guess your physiology might be different?"

One of Catra's ears flicked, and she glanced down to where her tail kept swaying back and forth—annoying, how her own body betrayed her constant low-level agitation—before returning Adora's gaze with dead eyes. "No shit."

Adora returned the look with quirked mouth and half-raised eyebrow.

"Whatever," Catra replied, rolling her eyes and letting the fruit fall to the ground. It bounced into the underbrush. "Since when do you know about—"she fumbled for the word for a moment, "—berries and crap?"

"Books," Adora responded, leaning up against a tree with a wince. "Bright Moon survival training. Bow taught me some, too. There's lots of things that can kill you out here if you're not careful."

Survival training. The extent of that discipline in the Horde was basically limited to "don't die in battle," with side lessons like "how to prevent yourself from bleeding to death," and "how to navigate back to the Fright Zone." If your injuries were too serious to bind yourself, or you were more days from the Fright Zone than you had ration bars...well. It just wasn't worth it.

Still, one of the books that a much younger Catra and Adora had stole—er… found… in the Fright Zone revealed pretty drawings of red and blue fruits, orange and green vegetables, and all kinds of foods that weren't gray paste pressed into a vaguely rectangular shape. They had stayed up late in the barracks, tracing the colorful outlines with small fingers, wondering what the strange things would taste like and planning to try them all after the world was theirs.

Now Catra's eyes narrowed. "Arrow boy, huh?"

Adora almost sighed, then stopped short at the inhale. Her face was pale. "Yeah. Bow."

"That's what I said."

"You know," Adora replied, her exasperated tone hiding a familiar hint of fondness, "I'd forgotten how much I missed your charming personality."

Catra snorted, digging into the bag around her shoulders for one of the two ration bars it contained. "Yeah, and I forgot how much I missed your thick head." She unwrapped the bar and glanced up to see Adora looking at her with one of those obnoxious grins that Catra hated.

"So you did miss me."

"What—I—no!" Catra sputtered. Adora just continued staring at her with that dopey "I win" grin. Catra growled, shooting her a death glare as she shoved half the ration bar into her hand.

"Eat," Catra commanded, then muttered under her breath: "Moron."

"Fine," Adora said, taking the bar. "But only because you missed me."

Catra glared again, turning on her heel and stalking away. Adora choked on a bite of ration bar.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Leaving you to die," Catra called over her shoulder.

She came back.

It wasn't exactly surprising, seeing as she'd left the bag of supplies and the canteen full of water behind. Which is probably why Adora simply acknowledged her return with a small smile instead of a rush of relief. She didn't say anything, just raised her arm from where she was still half-sitting on the boulder—and Catra sighed, settling it over her shoulders.

There was blessed silence for a while, broken only by the sounds of their breathing as they trekked laboriously through the woods. Catra had been counting blades of grass to keep her mind off her aching shoulder when Adora's voice cut through the quiet.

"I missed you too, you know."

Catra bristled at the words.

"Hey, I never said I—"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Adora interrupted, flapping the hand that was draped over Catra's shoulder like she was waving away her words. "Fine. 'I missed you,' end of sentence."

Catra grunted, willing away the tiny bloom of warmth in her chest.

"Sap."

Adora gave her a side-eyed glance, then took advantage of their close proximity by tilting her head just enough to knock into Catra's. It would have been an elbow to the ribs, if either of them could have managed it.

Catra glared. "I will drop you."

"No, you won't," Adora said, far too sure of herself.

"Don't press your luck, princess."

Adora hummed, then sighed. "You know what I miss most, though?" She paused, going silent a moment as they navigated carefully up a steep part of the overgrown path. Her arm tightened around Catra's shoulder, and she leaned heavily on her for a few steps. "Telling you stuff," she finished. "Things are so… different there. Everyone looks at me like I'm crazy for getting up before dawn to train, or thinking that twelve different types of food is way too much for one meal."

Twelve? Good grief. There were exactly five different kinds of ration bar in the Horde, and the flavors ranged exclusively from "vile" to "barely tolerable."

"Well, I always thought you were an idiot for getting up before dawn too," Catra pointed out. It was bad enough their drill sergeant would burst into the barracks right as the first rays of morning light were slogging through the perpetual Fright Zone smog to illuminate the corridors outside, but Adora would already have been up for at least twenty minutes—stretching, doing pushups, and threatening to make up the bunk with Catra still in it if she didn't get up. (She actually did it, once, but honestly, it was pretty comfortable.)

Adora shot her an indignant look and opened her mouth to reply, but a distant, deep howl carried through the air, joined by a low, faraway roar that seemed to make the trees vibrate despite the distance. The sound made Catra's blood run cold, and Adora's words vanished as she stiffened at Catra's side.

The faint amusement of their conversation evaporated, replaced by a deep sense of foreboding.

"Catra," Adora breathed. "That's…"

Catra said nothing, setting her mouth in a thin line and continuing to draw them forward. Adora must have noticed her lack of reaction, because she resisted, pulling them to a stop.

"Did you know?"

Catra looked away, silent.

"You knew Hordak sent his beasts after us and you didn't think to tell me?" Adora's voice pitched upward, too loud, too close to her ear.

"What difference would it have made?" Catra asked, sourly.

Adora brought up her free hand to pinch her brow. "We could have left sooner, I could have moved faster —"

"Ha! What a joke." Catra snapped. "Look at yourself. You can't even stand on your own for more than a minute."

"I don't—it doesn't matter," Adora said, taking a resolute, if shaky step forward and dragging Catra along in the process. "We need to keep going. Glimmer and Bow will find us once we get close enough to Bright Moon. I'm sure they're looking, so—"

The end of the sentence was lost to Catra, muffled by the sound of blood rushing through her ears. Those ridiculous, obnoxious friends of hers. Of course. Of course she was relying on them to get them out of here, like Catra wasn't good enough. Adora was already taking her for granted, assuming that she'd help, that they'd go where Adora thought they should go.

"Bright Moon," Catra said, her voice low, bordering on dangerous.

Adora shot her an odd look. "Yeah, Bright Moon." She paused, brow furrowing. "Where did you think we were going?"

Honestly, she hadn't thought about it. On some level, she knew how this would end, but she had been making a concerted effort not to think about it. Not to think about how she couldn't go back to the Fright Zone, and how her chance to prove herself had been cut suddenly, violently short. Somehow, she was trapped into doing what Adora wanted.

Again.

"Maybe I wasn't planning to take you to Bright Moon," Catra growled. "Maybe I was going to hand you over to the Horde as soon as we got out of here."

The lie burned on its way out of her throat, but it felt better than speaking the truth.

Adora stared at her incredulously. "You're joking."

Irritation flashed through her. "Am I?"

Adora's jaw was clenched, although Catra wasn't sure if was from pain or frustration. Maybe both.

"Catra, you can't."

Can't.

Flames of anger licked at her insides, and she adjusted Adora's arm around her shoulders in a way that she knew would cause a wince. It did. Instead of the satisfaction she expected, Catra felt a small twinge of guilt. "It's not like you could stop me."

"We'd die, Catra!" Adora snapped. Catra hissed for her to be quiet, and Adora lowered her voice slightly. "Hordak would kill us both! Why would you want to go back for that?"

"If I hand him She-Ra, do you really think he'd kill me?" Liar, her mind said. They tried to kill you already. You know they did. You know you can't go back.

Why was it so hard to admit?

"You can't be serious," Adora said. "I remember the fight now—that tank had a clear shot at me, and they aimed at you."

A growl grew in the back of Catra's throat, and suddenly the heat from where Adora was pressed against her side and across her shoulders was oppressive, choking. She came to an abrupt stop and rapidly, almost roughly, removed Adora's arm from across her shoulders and pushed her backward into the sturdy trunk of a tree. She stumbled and then leaned back against it, hand digging into her side as her face went a shade whiter.

Catra stayed just outside of her reach, fuming silently.

"For the love of Etheria, Catra," Adora gasped, voice quiet at first, then strengthening. "Why is this hard to understand? Hordak didn't just have a tank fire on you, he set the beasts after us!" Adora gestured expansively with her free hand. "Both of us!"

"No, Catra insisted, stubbornly. " You. " Maybe if she lied hard enough, she'd start to believe it.

Adora closed her eyes, tilting her head back. "Catra, don't be an idiot."

Suddenly, anger was easy.

"Oh, so I'm stupid?" Catra walked closer, like an animal stalking its prey. "If I don't agree with you, it's because I just don't understand, is it?" She slammed her hand into the tree trunk beside Adora's head, claws digging into the soft bark. "Because you're perfect, flawless, always-right Adora?"

Adora flushed. "I never said that."

Catra scoffed. "Gotta say, Adora," she drawled, looking her up and down, "For being so perfect… you've looked better."

Adora stubbornly held her gaze. "And whose fault is that?"

Catra snatched her hand away from the tree. "Fault," she hissed. "I'm the only reason you aren't dead." She took a step back. "But please, by all means," Catra raised her arms, gesturing to the woods. "See how you do without me."

She adjusted the pack on her shoulder and spun on her heel, stalking off into the trees.

"Catra, wait," Adora called after her. "Catra!"

Typical. The second it benefited Adora, she was all apology. Despite the desperation in Adora's tone, Catra narrowed her eyes, furiously putting distance between them.

And then she screamed, "Catra!" and every hair on Catra's arms stood up. Because that wasn't annoyance, or reprimand, or desperation in Adora's voice. Not anymore.

That was terror.

Catra whirled just in time to see an enormous, panther-like creature leap from the shadows, teeth bared in a vicious snarl, the wicked curve of its fangs glistening in the dimming light. Adora managed to snatch up a branch from the ground, but the gesture was pointless. A stick wouldn't fight off these beasts. No, she needed a real weapon… but the sword—still stuck through the bag on Catra's back—hummed with the energy of its broken magic.

Standing just through the trees, Catra froze.

The beast snarled as it evaded the pathetic swipe of Adora's stick, then responded with a swipe of its own. Muscles rippled beneath its fur as it batted Adora to the side like a cat with a mouse. She flew through the air, impacting the trunk of a tree several feet away with a solid, sickening crack before slumping to the ground, unmoving.

Get up, a distant voice in Catra's mind pleaded. Get up. Get up.

She didn't.

At this distance, Catra couldn't tell if Adora was breathing.

She couldn't tell if she was breathing.

The beast stalked toward Adora's still form, and the last remnants of Catra's anger evaporated. No matter what she said, or what she felt, she couldn't watch Adora die.

She shook off her paralysis, dropping the bag and sprinting forward as she gave a panicked, sweeping glance through the trees for the other two beasts. She didn't see anything, but—with these beasts, that didn't mean much.

"Hey!" she shouted, but the word stuck in her throat. The beast ignored her. She swiped up a stone from the ground as she ran, hurling it at the beast as she cried again. "Hey!"

The rock bounced off of one muscular haunch, and the beast whirled to face her, snarling.

Well.

Now she had its attention.

She started walking in a slow arc around the beast, keeping a close watch for the signs that it was about to pounce—but it was fast, too fast. It leapt without warning, and Catra's diving roll barely managed to whisk under its open jaw. Sticks and underbrush shifted beneath her feet and she slipped, with barely enough time to curse before a violent impact slammed her shoulder.

Her injured shoulder.

It flashed in a consuming blaze of white-hot agony, flaring so bright she didn't feel herself hit the ground. She must have, though, because now she was looking at the world sideways, the piercing ache in her head pulling a hazy film over her vision. She blinked. Her shoulder burned. The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils.

Move.

She yanked herself in a blind roll to the side, a rush of air brushing her cheek as the claws of the beast slammed into the ground where her head had been a split second earlier.

Move.

She'd have time for pain later.

Her doubling vision coalesced into one image of the beast, directly before her. Mouth open and heaving. Exposed teeth shining. Too close, too close—

When in doubt, shock them with an offensive attack. In a desperate move, Catra leapt onto the beast.

She landed awkwardly on its back and neck, the claws of her feet and hands sinking deep into matted fur and dense muscle. The beast yowled and bucked and she slammed her hand down, driving her claws into the sensitive skin of its jaw. It bucked again, this time too violently for her to maintain her hold—but even as she flew through the air, she felt the soft resistance of flesh and tendon as her claws tore the beast's face.

All air left her lungs when she hit the ground, and her vision flared white. The beast was yowling again. Through the haze over her eyes she could see half its face was painted red, one eye glued shut. It hesitated a moment, then turned its back and disappeared into the trees.

For a moment, Catra couldn't move, trying to force air back into her aching chest.

Scary thing was, from the stories she'd heard—that was the small one.

Then something filtered through the haze of her mind.

Adora.

She tried to push herself up on her elbows, but one arm didn't respond properly. She fell back, head cracking against the ground as her vision darkened at the edges. She breathed for a moment, then glanced down. Four deep, fresh lines were carved into her upper arm, oozing thick blood. Her arm was already slippery with it.

She groaned. "Great." The word was a breathy whisper.

She rolled onto her good side and managed to push to her feet on the second try, stumbling the short distance to where Adora lay. She slammed to her knees. It probably hurt. She didn't notice.

"Adora." Her throat was so tight, it was a miracle the word escaped.

Her shaking hand pressed against Adora's face, her fingers buried in her wheat-blond hair. Adora didn't move. Catra's fingers came back red.

"Adora. Wake up."

Please.

Catra's gaze fell to Adora's chest and she waited—one heartbeat, two. Her vision was blurring.

Then… there!

Her chest moved, barely, and Catra was too exhausted to question the relief that flooded her at the sight. Adora was breathing. For now.

She glanced into the trees, half expecting to see three pairs of eyes and three sets of glistening fangs waiting for them. But no—it was just tree trunks and a curtain of leaves and vines, almost serene in their innocence. Beyond that, Catra's eyes settled on the canyon wall, broken in places by slashes of darkness. Caves. The openings were narrow, enough for them to squeeze in, but not wide enough for a beast. Their way out.

Adrenaline pushed aside the haze in Catra's mind. They were alive, but if they wanted to stay that way, they needed to move.

"Adora."

She tapped her cheek, and was rewarded with a soft groan. Catra remembered the blood in her hair and decided not to hit harder, instead moving her hand down to shake her shoulder.

"Adora."

Adora's eyes fluttered open briefly.

Catra shook her shoulder harder, and a whimper escaped Adora's throat before her glassy eyes opened again, roaming the canopy of trees before landing on Catra's face.

"Ca…shra?" she slurred. Catra's heart sank. Not good.

"You need to get up."

But instead, Adora's eyes slipped shut again. Frustrated, scared, Catra jostled her shoulder. Her eyes only managed to slide half-open. "Up?" Adora repeated, like the word confused her.

"Yeah. Up. C'mon." Catra slid her arm behind Adora's shoulders and pulled her to a sitting position. Adora's head landed heavily on Catra's shoulder.

Her eyes were open, but based on her glassy stare, she wasn't seeing much. "I can't…"

Catra bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper. She'd carry Adora, but with the shape her shoulder was in, it just wasn't possible—the weakened muscles would give out in an instant. But leaving her again wasn't an option. If the beasts weren't already there, they soon would be, lurking in the shadows, ready to spring—

They had to move. Except in this state, Adora couldn't move.

But… Adora's absurd sense of duty was almost a superpower. When their drill sergeant ordered her to complete an obstacle course after a fall that basically snapped her leg in two, Adora had simply gotten up and done it, face white as bone, only allowing herself to go limp after she crossed the finish line.

Catra had taken advantage of that superpower exactly once, when Adora was so sick she was hallucinating, and Catra wasn't yet strong enough to carry her to the safe hiding place where she'd stashed blankets and medicine. Adora thanked her later, but the haunted look in her eyes made Catra swear to herself that she'd never do it again.

Catra screwed her eyes shut, hating what she was about to do.

"On your feet, cadet!" she shouted.

The effect was instantaneous. Adora snapped to attention for a drill sergeant who wasn't there, almost sagging forward again as her face went impossibly white—but Catra's hand caught her, and she maneuvered herself underneath Adora's arm, crouched and ready to rise.

"Up. Now."

She tried, but Catra did most of the work in pulling them upright. Her abused ribs screamed under Adora's near dead-weight. Adora's head hung low, lolling toward Catra's face until loose hair tickled her cheek. She started to slip, and Catra wrapped her arm around her waist to steady her—Adora's unsteady breath hitched in a whimper as her fingers landed too close to the blood-soaked bandage on Adora's side, and Catra quickly adjusted her grasp.

Catra took a deep breath, steadying herself against the grinding pain in her ribs and the burn in her shoulder, swallowing the panic that had lodged itself in her throat. She had never actually seen the beasts back in the Fright Zone, but stories passed by cadets in the dark said that one of them was practically invisible, and the other two moved too fast to be seen. Her hearing was useless, any quiet sounds drowned out by their raspy breathing. Adora's weight was like an anchor at her side, and her own injuries burned as blood from the slashes on her arm ran slowly down her to her elbow, collecting there before dripping into the grass.

In short, they were blind, crippled, and leaving a trail any beast could follow with its eyes closed.

Catra shut her eyes briefly and inhaled. Adora had slumped further forward, and she jostled her. No response.

"Adora."

There was a quiet moan, and her head rolled slightly to the side. Dammit. She couldn't move them without her.

"Cadet."

Adora's head lifted, brow creased together, eyes open but unseeing. Catra pulled her arm more securely across her shoulders.

"March."

A/N

SORRYYYY

(you have no idea how much restraint it took not to title this chapter "Escape Claws" just for the ridiculous pun.)

Thank you to you lovely people who've reviewed, and to my wonderful beta Wicked42 for cleaning up this mess of a chapter! XD til next time!