Octavia stomped through the woods of the canyon, cursing the insects and the vines and the dimming light. Her, a Force Captain, the feared and respected Beast-Master of the Horde, reduced to this? Traipsing through the underbrush after three mindless beasts and two traitors, unable to return until she cleaned up Catra's mess? The absurdity of it almost made her laugh. It was an embarrassment to the entire Horde that Catra had ever been Hordak's second. The foolish girl couldn't even defect properly, simply letting her attachments eat away at her until she became a liability. Useless.

A warning beep came from the trackerpad in Octavia's hand. The display showed two white lights prowling in the distance—the other beasts—and one red light, almost on top of her location. Finally. The beasts weren't often wounded during their deployment, but when they were, their movement patterns changed in a way she had learned to detect. She had seen the warning signs in this beast from a distance, and shocked it to unconsciousness in order to assess its condition.

At last, she burst into a small clearing to see the smallest of the beasts crumpled to the forest floor, its enormous ribcage rising and falling with rumbling breaths. One side of its face was covered in deep, bleeding scratches. Its eye, half-covered by a torn lid, was damaged beyond repair.

Octavia snarled, bringing a hand up to her own unseeing eye. Catra. Her handiwork was unmistakable. She thrust a hand into the bag she carried over her shoulder and pulled forth a small container, uncapping it and scooping out a mound of a foul-smelling paste to smear across the long cuts in the beast's face. It wouldn't heal the eye, but it would stop the bleeding, lessen the chance of infection, and dull some of the pain. Injuries may provide a boost of adrenaline during a fight, but eventually, pain becomes a distraction. The numbing agent should last long enough for the beasts to get the job done.

And oh, did Octavia want the job done.

She capped the container and replaced it, then reached out to run a long-nailed hand across the matted fur of the unconscious beast. The movement was one not of affection, but more… appreciation. The same look one might give to a sharp blade before battle.

The beast growled softly in its sleep, like the sound of distant thunder.

Octava found blood, earlier, when she entered the canyon. A lot of it, with tracks leading away in slow, clumsy steps. The fall may not have killed the traitors, but it was doubtful the mighty She-Ra would be able to put up much of a fight, even Catra had managed a lucky strike. It was only a matter of time. The beasts would kill both of them, sooner or later, and Octavia would collect their corpses and return in glory to the Horde.

A cruel smile curved her lips.

She couldn't wait.

Cold.

Adora felt cold.

She felt a lot of things, actually. "Cold" was just the least unpleasant. But everything was far away, muted by the fog that settled like a heavy blanket in her mind. Her side hurt. Her side always hurt; that was just a constant, now. Maybe it would hurt less if she could stop the jarring motion of lifting one foot up, setting it down, moving the other forward—oh, wait. Walking. If she could stop walking. Funny word to forget, walking.

No. No, she couldn't stop walking. She had been ordered to walk.

But for how long? Where was she going? When could she stop?

She wasn't lifting her feet so much as dragging them, but still, every soft impact of her foot against the ground sent a jarring sensation up her leg, into her side, intensifying the piercing ache in her head.

Oh, right, that. Her head felt like someone had tried to put a pickaxe through it, then gave up and just left it there, embedded in her skull. It was great.

Ha, sarcasm. Catra liked sarcasm. Adora should tell Catra she wasn't the only sarcastic one now. Maybe she'd start liking her again.

Something snagged her foot and she started falling, her muscles too tired and mind too slow to do anything about it—but something caught her, and if walking hurt, this hurt so much more. Her side flared with a hot, searing pain, the only warmth in her cold body, her ribs screaming in protest as she tried to draw a breath against sudden nausea. Her head was the worst of it. A spike of agony entered her skull somewhere above her ear, blossoming into a consuming, pressing ache at her temples and behind her eyes, drowning out her vision in a sea of blackness populated by small flashes of light. She knew those. She'd seen them, once. Stars?

There was a distant urge to laugh. She'd brought the stars back.

Too bad it hurt so much.

A voice, strong and familiar, filtered through the ringing in her ears—too loud. She tilted her head away and groaned. It was… angry? Maybe. Snatches of the sentence reached her mind.

"..ora, com… ave to move."

No, that wasn't anger, not quite. It was… fear? Why would Catra be afraid?

The drill sergeant. Of course. Adora shuddered; she had to move. If Catra was caught helping her—

She pushed—or was pulled—upward, then dragged one foot in front of the other, leaning her weight into the shaking support.

Forward.

I can't.

Keep going.

It doesn't matter if you can't. You will.

You have to.

–

They were only a few steps from the mouth of the cave, a thin black slash in the endless rock wall of the canyon, when the roiling nausea in Adora's stomach became too much.

She was almost afraid to open her mouth, but managed one quiet, desperate word: "C'tra."

Catra's eyes widened when they landed on Adora's face. "Oh, sh—"

She had a split second to adjust her hold on Adora before she doubled over, the meager contents of her stomach spattering onto the rock at their feet. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt. The pressure in her head multiplied tenfold; her side felt like someone had jammed a knife in it anew. A fresh surge of warmth trickled down her side, and she tried to bring a shaking hand up to stop it. She was already so cold…

Her vision swirled into darkness.

–

She woke, shivering, to the feeling of cool rock beneath her. Shadows and light danced overhead, and there was a distant feeling of warmth on one side. Fire?

Something brushed against her forehead. She opened her eyes again to see a wavering image of Catra above her, one hand receding from her face, the other pressing down on the ever-constant pain in her side. She looked down. Catra's hand was red. The bandage was red. Fear and nausea coiled in Adora's stomach—there was too much, too much red.

Adora's wandering gaze found the fire, and the handle of a Horde-issue knife jutting from it. Its blade was embedded in glowing red coals.

There was apology in Catra's eyes, a tightness to her voice. "I have to."

Adora's eyes slipped shut, but she managed to wheeze, "I know."

–

She didn't remember much of it.

Catra had offered her a thin, short section of a branch to bite down on, bark peeled away to reveal the smooth white wood below. It tasted like the forest smelled.

One moment Catra was leaning over her, the blade of the knife trembling in her grasp, the smell of hot metal filling Adora's nose. The next there was a searing, white-hot agony that consumed her senses—the wood cracked in her mouth, she was blind, a muffled scream filled her ears—

Then, blessedly, darkness.

They were alive.

Somehow.

That was what mattered, right?

Catra sat huddled in the corner, knees pulled her chest, back pressed to the cold wall of the cave. They were alive; that was what mattered. Not the muffled scream echoing in her mind. Not the radiating heat of the knife that still pricked at the skin on her hand. Not the stench of burned flesh that filled her nostrils and turned her stomach.

She shivered despite the warmth of the fire, tugging her knees closer—her arm burned and stung at the motion, and she hissed, glancing down. Four deep cuts lay beneath the bandage she'd wrapped awkwardly around her upper arm, seeping blood into the white cloth. Curse that beast. She bit her tongue against the pain and tried to pull the bandage tighter.

Catra's eyes wandered the small cave, actually looking at it for the first time. The entrance was narrow, just enough for a person to squeeze in-it had been awkward, dragging Adora through-but then widened significantly into a much larger cavern appearing to travel deep into the canyon wall. Not that they'd be able to explore it; a pile of rocks from an old cave-in effectively cut them off from whatever lay beyond. A cool draft came from the gaps near the top of the rock pile, blowing the faint smoke of their small fire out the cave's entrance and into the trees beyond.

Her gaze drifted down to the bag at her feet, and she tilted its contents onto the rock floor. Between Adora's wound and wrapping her own arm, only one roll of bandages remained. There was a small container (too small) of a nasty-smelling paste that she'd applied to Adora's wound before, not that it helped much, and again after the wound was… 'd used a little on herself, too, to slow the bleeding on her arm.

That left her with a compass, a knife (she'd thrown it to the opposite side of the small cave, after, and felt no great desire to retrieve it), a half-full canteen, a firestarter, a flare, one very magical, very annoying, and very broken sword, and one lousy ration bar.

Her foot knocked against a small container, and something rattled. Oh, and two pain pills. They were supposed to help stave off infection, too, if she remembered right, so she needed to make sure Adora took one next time she woke up. Not now, though. Even if she could rouse her-which she doubted-Adora needed sleep.

So did Catra, for that matter. She blinked heavily.

Heat near her hand. A choked, agonized scream that would echo in her mind for days to come, a nauseating smell—her eyes flew open, involuntarily focusing on the form across the cave. Adora was still there, pale, but breathing steadily. Asleep. Exhausted though she was, Catra couldn't join her.

Her eyes flicked down to the ration bar. If she couldn't sleep, she might as well do something about their food situation. She staggered to her feet, heading for the jagged, narrow opening to the cave.

Catra was a good hunter.

The Fright Zone's "wildlife" was largely limited to cockroaches and the occasional rat, and her agile movements and sharp claws were no match for a rodent already half-dead from whatever made the Fright Zone's rare rainfalls collect into greasy, dark puddles. She probably shouldn't have eaten them, actually, but choices were limited when Shadow Weaver decided that "no food" was the punishment for the week. Adora insisted on sharing her rations, but when Shadow Weaver found out, things were… worse. For both of them.

Rat didn't taste too bad, once you got used to it. Especially considering the delightful flavor of Horde ration bars was her only standard of comparison.

Anyway, point was, Catra was a good hunter.

She had to keep reminding herself of that fact as yet another bushy-tailed tree rat slipped away her claws. A growl escaped her throat, and she swiped her hand down to carve four parallel lines into the tree branch on which she sat.

Climbing into the trees with only one usable arm had been a challenge, but sharp claws and soft tree bark made it doable. The familiar rush of being high off the ground made the stinging ache in her bones worth it. A breeze stirred her hair, and she closed her eyes and tried to let go of her frustration, inhaling the wild scent of the woods.

A distant sound caught her attention. Voices? She involuntarily flicked an ear toward the source. Yes, voices, definitely. Two of them. The pitch of one voice grew almost shrill with frustration, and the other responded in a lower, barely audible tone.

She knew those voices. That sparkly princess, Glitter—and the other voice had to be the arrow boy that always hung around her. Adora had been right. Her friends did come for her. Well, this certainly was going to make things easier.

The voices slowly became louder as they approached the tree, and she decided to wait a moment and listen.

"I don't want to think about it any more than you do, but we need to at least acknowledge the possibility that she's…" Arrow boy trailed off.

Huh. So they thought Adora might be dead. Not exactly surprising, considering. Glitter's louder, more annoying voice cut through the air in response.

"No, Bow, I don't. I'm not going to acknowledge anything until we find her. Alive."

"Glimmer, you saw the blood—the tracks!" Arrow boy lowered his voice, looking around them. "There's something—some things—out here. I've never seen tracks like that before."

"Then I guess we'll just have to deal with whatever it is when it shows up."

They were getting closer now, but with the dense cover of leaves, they weren't likely to see her even if they looked up. Which they hadn't. Not too smart, considering they didn't know what kind of monster they were tracking… but then, tracking didn't appear to be their strong suit, since the only way they would have reached this part of the woods was if they'd lost the path Catra and Adora left through the woods.

Ah well. That would just make it all the more surprising when she dropped down in front of them, told them where Adora was, and they finally put that obnoxious, sparkly magic to good use getting out of this cursed crack in the ground. They'd escape the beasts. Adora would get help. Everything would be fine.

She rose from her crouch, about to swing down from the tree in front of Arrow and Glitter, and… froze.

All she had to do was open her mouth. Drop down from the tree. Lead them to the cave, and in the next moment they'd be in Bright Moon.

…and Catra would be in a jail cell.

Assuming they even took her with.

More likely, Catra would be blinded by an annoying burst of pink sparkles, and when her vision finally cleared she would find herself alone in the bottom of the canyon, Adora whisked away by her new best friends. Maybe Catra would be tied up by one of arrow boy's nets, a neat little offering for the beasts that roamed the woods.

She found herself caring less about that than the fact that she would be alone. Again.

A low, unsettling howl came from the distance, and a chill raced up her spine. Below her, Glitter and Arrow exchanged nervous glances, looking about two seconds away from sprinting off into the woods or teleporting away.

Whatever she was going to do, she needed to do it quickly.

Ugh. Catra closed her eyes, bringing up her hands to massaging her aching temples. Adora would probably be better off now that her wound was sealed, but… she still needed help. Real help, real medicine. Catra had watched her almost die too many times to let it happen now, when escape was within their grasp.

She grabbed the branch with her good arm in preparation to swing down from the tree, opening her mouth to call down to them—

—and her voice was drowned out by a sudden, vicious snarl. On instinct, she crouched back down just as one of the beasts broke through the trees. This wasn't the one she'd fought before; no, this one was much larger. Longer teeth, longer claws, just as eager for blood.

Shit. She'd waited too long.

The beast lunged toward the two rebels, and with a cry, Glitter latched onto her friend and teleported them away in a puff of pink sparkles.

The beast's mouth snapped shut on empty air, then swung around, searching the now-empty clearing for its prey. A bone-chilling sound somewhere between a roar and a howl rose from the beast as it paced the small clearing, long, thick claws sinking deep into the soft earth and tearing it with each step, testing the air. If it caught her scent—

Catra couldn't risk moving. With injuries making her movements clumsy, it would certainly hear her. Couldn't fight it; she'd barely escaped the smaller one. All she could do was sit, and wait, and pray it wouldn't find her. Pray it wouldn't catch her scent and follow it back to the cave, and Adora. Not that its enormous body could make it through the small opening.

She hoped.

The beast wandered closer to the tree where she hid, and her claws buried themselves so deep into the branch she was practically a part of it.

It sniffed the air for another minute, during which Catra did not breath or blink—and then, with an aggravated whuff, the beast turned and walked away from the tree. Away from the cave.

Catra didn't move for a full twenty minutes after it disappeared into the trees.

–

Catra stumbled into the cave, flexing her fingers to drive away the lingering soreness. It had taken great effort to finally pry her hands free of the tree branch before slowly, quietly padding back to Adora, checking behind her every two seconds to ensure no beasts were following.

So close. She had been so close to getting them out of this, and then—

The only thing that kept her from punching the nearest tree and screaming in frustration was her own exhaustion, and fear of attracting one of the beasts. She'd had all the time in the world to get the attention of Adora's friends, and still... Even if she'd ended up in a cell on the other side, well, these were Bright Moon rebels. Whatever their jail looked like, it had to be downright luxurious compared to the Horde.

And even if it wasn't, she had more important things to worry about. Like how Adora could still die.

And how now, it would be Catra's fault.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the unpleasant thought as guilt pooled in her stomach. Adora would be fine. She'd make sure of it. And Adora would never, ever know how close they had come to an easy escape.

Catra checked the bandage at Adora's side again—still a pristine white. The wound hadn't opened, at least. But Adora hadn't woken when Catra entered the cave, her face as pale and silent and unmoving as when Catra had left for her extremely unsuccessful hunting trip.

Another wave of exhaustion washed over her as she grabbed a few small branches and poked them into the fading red glow of the fire, stirring the embers until flames started again. She shivered. Nights here were cooler than she expected.

Her ribs ached, but she curled into as tight a ball as she could manage on the cold ground. Almost as soon as she did so, a soft, pained sound came from the short distance across the cave. She lifted her head and squinted at Adora in the flickering firelight. Her head was turned to the side now, eyes still closed, but her face tense with pain.

With a groan, Catra pulled herself to her feet and crossed the short distance between them, kneeling at her side.

"Adora."

No response.

Loose hair had fallen across Adora's eyes, and not quite knowing why, Catra reached out to move it back. Her hand lingered, fingers running gently through Adora's hair.

Adora's eyes opened then, her unfocused gaze landing on Catra's face.

"Catra?" The word was barely audible, but there was confusion and… something else wrapped in the tone. Relief?

"Yeah," Catra responded, quietly. "It's me." Guilt swirled in her stomach. If she'd just made up her mind faster, they wouldn't be stuck in this freezing cave, and… she cut off that train of thought. No point focusing on it now.

Adora's half-lidded gaze held hers for a moment more, fluttering with the effort of staying open before finally slipping shut again. Belatedly, Catra realized that Adora was trembling. Her hand knocked against Adora's and she was surprised by the chill of her skin.

A stuttering breath came from Adora, and Catra looked to her face in surprise. She hadn't expected her to still be awake. "C-cold," she whispered, eyes still shut.

It was drafty, despite the warmth of the small fire. And the stone was surprisingly cold, leeching the warmth out of Catras skin even as she knelt on it.

Still, it wasn't that cold. But blood loss could make you cold, and...crap, so could a fever. She'd almost forgotten about the pain pill. Catra grabbed the canteen and the small container, knocking one of the pills into her hand.

"Adora."

A quiet groan.

"You need to sit up for a minute." She looped her good arm behind Adora's shoulders and pulled her up, ribs screaming at the motion. Ugh, all that stupid muscle made her heavy. Adora's head hit her shoulder, and she groaned again.

"Hurts…"

"Yeah, I know. This'll help." Adora's eyes were closed, face unnervingly white. Catra jostled her shoulders, and her head slowly lifted from Catra's shoulder, glazed eyes half-open.

"You gotta swallow this." She shoved the pill in Adora's mouth, and Adora made a face.

"Gross. "

"You're gross." She pressed the canteen to Adora's lips. "Drink."

Adora managed a few swallows before her face paled further and her head nodded, dropping back down to Catra's shoulder. Catra slowly lowered her back down to the ground. A visible shiver ran through Adora's body when her back touched the cool rock.

Well, it wasn't like they had any blankets. Maybe she could find some leaves, or moss, or something… but the thought of going back outside the cave made her sway. Catra was tired—no, exhausted. And to be honest, she was a little cold, too.

"Move over," she grumbled, expecting neither response nor reaction as she carefully levered herself over Adora, laying down at her side so that Adora was between Catra and the warmth of the fire. Adora winced, and another soft, pained sound escaped her throat. Catra curled closer, carefully laying an arm across her in a position that she hoped wouldn't aggravate Adora's wound or damaged ribs. Her nose pressed against Adora's shoulder.

"You stink," she said, her words muffled by Adora's shirt.

That should have garnered at least a small laugh—or a return of the sentiment, if Adora was awake. Catra looked up to see Adora's face slack except for a slight crease between her brows. It was a familiar expression. One she'd seen countless times when they were children, then teenagers, trying to sleep through aches and bruises and injuries before the next day multiplied them. And back then, to let both of them sleep easier, Catra would…

She lowered her head back down to Adora's shoulder, curling the slightest bit closer before letting a quiet, soothing rumble build in her chest. Almost as soon as it started, a quiet sigh escaped Adora and her trembling lessened.

Catra let her own eyes slip shut, giving in to her exhaustion.

–

The hair on the back of her neck raised, and Catra bolted upright before she was fully awake. That feeling—they were being watched. She blinked, looking around the thin, rocky crevice groggily, but finding nothing.

Nothing except Adora, looking only half awake herself, staring at Catra with a loopy grin.

"I like your ears."

Catra blinked again, then swallowed, trying to clear the fog of sleep from her mind. "What?"

"They're sooooo," Adora drew out the word, pitching it up and down a few times before tilting her head toward Catra to deliver the end of her sentence in a conspiratorial whisper: "soft." She giggled.

Adora giggled.

"And fluffy," Adora continued, oblivious to Catra's rising horror, lifting her arm to awkwardly pat Catra's hair. "You're fluffy."

Catra's ears flattened slightly, and she pulled away from Adora's hand. It fell back down to the ground, and Adora pouted.

"What is wrong with you—oh." She broke off, suddenly remembering the pain pill. It wasn't supposed to make her this loopy, but with blood loss and a concussion…

"Nothin's wrong," Adora answered. "I feel great." she stretched out that word, too, dopey grin firmly planted on her face.

"Wow. I guess that was some good stuff, huh." Catra leaned in, smirking.

"You're good stuff."

Catra flushed. "I'm not—you're—wow," she settled on, with a slightly strained scoff, "Guess I should have been more worried about that stuff cooking the few braincells you've got left." She leaned over as she spoke the words, poking a finger into Adora's forehead with a little more force than she'd intended.

Adora clumsily reached up and rubbed her forehead, looking like a two-year-old deprived of a snack. "You're mean."

"Oh, you noticed."

Adora's arm flopped back down to her side. "Doesn' matter. Still like you." The dopey grin was back. Catra resisted the urge to drag her hands down her own reddening face, settling instead for turning her back to Adora.

"Yeah, well, you never were very smart."

"Meeeaaan."

"Yes, that's been established. Anything else?" She certainly hoped not.

"Yeah. I like your tail." Adora's tone shifted, almost petulant. "It likes me, even when you don't."

Catra glanced behind her, making a conscious effort to pull her tail away from where it had started to curl around Adora's leg.

"I don't like you."

Ha. Yeah. Didn't like her. That must be why she kept risking her life to drag Adora through a beast-infested hole in the ground.

Catra decided that her inner monologue could stuff it.

"Catra," Adora's voice came from behind her, and she ignored it, staring off into nothing.

Something poked her back. She ignored that too, but felt her tail flick across the ground in annoyance.

"Catraaaa…" there was the sound of shuffling and fabric sliding across rock behind her, and she turned just in time to see Adora try to push herself up off the ground and then fall back, face white and eyes screwed shut.

Ugh. "Idiot," she muttered, reaching over to lift the edge of the bandage at Adora's side. Her stomach turned at the sight. Dark, blistering skin surrounded the red scar of the wound, and some clear fluids had seeped into the bandage—but no blood. Good. She looked back up to Adora's face, which was still scrunched and tense.

"Hurts," she said, almost a whine. "Why does everything hurt?"

"Everything always hurts," Catra responded, tightening the bandage again. Adora winced. "That's life, princess."

The pain seemed to have taken the edge off Adora's loopiness. Her eyes wandered the small cavern as if seeing it for the first time, eventually returning to Catra and drifting down to the bandages awkwardly wrapped around the claw marks on her upper arm. Adora's brow knit together, and she clumsily raised a hand toward the bandage. It knocked into Catra's arm with more force than it should have, and she swallowed a hissing wince.

"'re you okay?"

It was so obnoxiously Adora to be concerned about other people when she was lying half-dead in a cave.

"I'm fine," Catra said through gritted teeth. She took Adora's hand by the wrist and removed it from her arm, but when she tried to pull her own hand back, Adora's closed on it with unexpected strength. Catra looked up sharply.

"Hey, what are—" She started, then cut off when she saw Adora's face. Her eyes were damp.

Oh, Catra did not want to deal with this. "No, hey, don't…"

"I missed you," Adora said, her voice quiet and wobbly.

Catra sighed, trying unsuccessfully to wiggle her fingers free. Adora should not have a grip this strong. "I know. You told me."

The crease between Adora's brows deepened. "I did?"

"Yeah. Like, twice. Cuz you're a massive sap."

"Oh." Adora's eyes closed, and her vice-like grip loosened. Catra started to pull away, but Adora's fingers closed again and her eyes slid open, barely.

"Stay?"

Catra scoffed lightly. "Not like I have a lot of options."

"So you'll stay?" The words were quiet, slurring together a bit, like Adora was struggling to remain awake.

Catra rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I'll stay."

Adora's eyes closed again with a quiet sigh, and her grip loosened again. After a brief, inexplicable moment of hesitation, Catra pulled her hand away. Adora's breathing was starting to even out, despite a lingering tremble against the cold.

Catra gave a sigh of her own, making sure Adora was actually asleep before laying back down on the hard, cool rock to resume her former position curled against Adora's side. It was still cold, she reasoned. This just happened to be the least uncomfortable sleeping arrangement.

There was silence for a while, broken only by the soft sound of Adora's breaths and the quiet, even rumble emanating from Catra's chest. Catra's eyes drifted shut, and the words that came from her mouth were so quiet she almost couldn't hear them herself.

"I guess I missed you, too."

HOW 'BOUT THAT SEASON 4 NEWS HUH

This chapter ended up being less intense than anticipated, but don't worry. It won't last. XD

I honestly don't know when the next update will be (because school is murder even after you become a teacher), but hopefully it won't be too long!

Thank you as always for your lovely reviews, I treasure them forever!