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There are, of course, divots in the land after the war. She-Ra is great for making grass and plants and all that, but she can't exactly glue together chunks of broken land, so craters litter Etheria- some from the Horde, some from Prime.
In Plumeria, there's one about twelve or so foot deep- enough to make Scorpia climb a little bit if she fell in, but not a death pit or anything- and this one is Scorpia's favorite. Rainwater had slowly but surely filled it, creating a little pond that the froggies adored putting their eggs in. It was never-ending ribbit-y goodness. She loved it so much Perfuma had crafted a little vine bridge over the middle, so she could sit down in the center and just listen to the birds and froggies and all sorts of other things she didn't know much about.
She could've destroyed all of that. Hordak could've destroyed all of that. Prime almost did. And, boy, is that terrifying to consider.
Her second favorite part is Perfuma, and the only reason Perfuma is second place is because she can't cradle Perfuma like a little froggy, who sits with her and shows her new plants. Today is little bushes of fire, gorgeous to the eye. Scorpia half-expects them to burn her claws as she holds them.
"These are celosia," she explains. "Some people call them woolflowers."
Scorpia hugs it to her chest, feeling the bristles tickle her chin. "Gosh, everything out here is so pretty."
"I'm glad you like them. I was hoping to give them to a special person." Perfuma leans into her shoulder, smiling blissfully. "You."
Scorpia's brain does that thing where it assumes she's misheard or misconstrued it and tells her to adjust accordingly. "Ah, no, I don't have a special person. Good on you for finding yourself one, though!"
Perfuma giggles. "Scorpia, my special person is you."
She feels rather than sees her face turn a brighter red than the celosia. "Oh! Oh, you mean... oooohh. Oh. Um."
Sensing her discomfort, Perfuma edged away immediately, brow furrowing. "I haven't overstepped, have I? If it's a no, I completely understand. I'm more than happy to be friends fore-"
"If this is overstepping please continue to do so forever and ever," Scorpia blurts out, then regrets every decision ever, setting the plant aside to cover her face. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I'm just... no one's ever..."
Perfuma cocked her head to the side. Her frown was deeper than the divot. "Not ever? But you're Scorpia! How could people not love you?"
"Y'know, I think most people in the Horde were scared of me? I mean-" she clacked her claws together- "these bad boys can do a lot of damage. Even when I was a cadet, no one really..." Scorpia shrugged. "I've never been someone's first choice before. Heck, I don't think I've ever been someone's last choice."
"That," announced Perfuma, "is ridiculous. You're Scorpia! You're the sweetest, kindest person I've ever met. And if you'd want to... I'd love to try us out."
She took Perfuma's hands between her pinschers. She held them gingerly, without squeezing. "Are you sure?" Scorpia pressed. "I can't hold your hand, and I hurt your plants, and-"
"You're holding my hand now, silly."
Scorpia looked down at her pinschers. "Technically, but it's not a five-fingered grip. I can't intertwine our fingers, and I have to sleep on my side because if I sleep on my stomach my tail whips around at night, and if I'm on my back it hurts, and I can't stop myself from talking literally ever, oh gosh stop me now."
Perfuma giggled, pressing her forehead to Scorpia's chest. "I like this. When you hold my hands, I feel... safe. It's like a hand-hug."
"Ooh, I'm good at hugs!" she chirped, brightening up a bit. "I could give you plenty of those! Aw, but you don't gotta date me for that. You can just..." Perfuma slid her hands out to cup her cheeks, and Scorpia, for the first time in her life, swallowed her tongue.
"May I kiss you?" Perfuma asked, leaning in just slightly- not enough to pressure, but enough to trade body heat.
"Yes. Please. Immediately."