She was impossibly small, and vulnerable, and human, laid out on the ground as she was, body twisted, contorting in ways which were not natural. She looked broken, pale, and dull. Nothing like the way she looked with the sword in her hands, almost glowing, drawing herself up taller with every passing moment.
When Adora was She Ra, she seemed impregnable, a proverbial fortress. As if nothing could hurt her, as if she were invincible. She certainly acted like it, like her skin was steel and her body stone.
Sometimes, Catra forgot that she wasn't. Sometimes she pushed too hard. Sometimes she failed to remember Adora was human, and could feel pain.
Panic. The thick palpable sort which Catra had familiarized herself with long ago. She leans down with a hiss, staring at her prone body. Her knee jutted in a funny way, and Catra struggles to keep down a wave of disgust, of horrified apprehension.
"This isn't funny Adora. Just wake up already, stop messing with my head"
Her nearly lifeless body does not answer. She does not move. She still looks broken, tiny. All Catra's doing.
She's defeated her, has really done it. She's toppled her from that godforsaken pedestal at long last.
Catra thought that seeing this, seeing her like this, weak and helpless like she had been, would make her feel better.
Instead Catra feels a sharp pain in her stomach, which she eventually equates to guilt. Ripping her apart from the inside out.
She felt horrible, and Adora's lack of movement was no soother.
Guilt turns slowly to anger, and she flops down on the ground with a furious (frustrated) huff. She's overwhelmed by how unfair the situation is. Adora had hurt her, had nearly ripped her heart out without a single qualm, and yet she could not bear to hurt her back.
After a moment, she smiles, self pityingly, ironically, and turns to the broken body of her ex-friend, ex-partner, newly minted enemy, with a wry grin.
"I'll never be rid of this, huh? Even when I beat you I still feel terrible"
A sigh. Her hand clenches, claws pricking, sliding into and puncturing skin, until blood welled.
"I guess you'll always exact control over me, huh? No matter what happens, what you do, I'll always be your fool" She laughs bitterly.
Unfair. The world was cruel and unfair.
The words were accusatory, spat through clenched teeth, and almost begged for a response, a retort. Though Catra expected no such thing.
Instead, she lets the words bleed into the silence of the ambience. Does not wait for an answer that would not come.