Chapter Text
It was just one of those days.
Catra, stretched out across the gap between the rusted metal ruins, claws dug in on either side, facing a forty-story drop, groaned in frustration. “At least it can’t get any worse.” At the moment, a clap of thunder rang out above the dense canopy, and an ocean’s worth of rain poured down to soak her to the bone.
Now, she growled. “No!” She pushed herself up, only to flail her arms and fall back into the plank. With each push and flop, she grunted. “No. Not happening. Not today.” Push. “Stupid island. Think you’re sooo tough just because we send our worst prisoners to die here. Well, I got news for ya.” Push. “When I find whatever’s giving off that signal Hordak’s obsessed with and haul it back to the Fright Zone, I’m gonna replace Shadow Weaver, conquer Etheria, and find a much worse place than you to send people who piss me off.” Push. She could see it now. ‘Don’t call Supreme Leader Catra’s ears cute,’ the cadets would whisper. ‘Or you’ll get sent to Catra Island.’ Glorious.
“How do ya like that, huh?” The rain fell harder and lightning struck a spire in the distance. “Well, no one asked you!” Catra was fuming. This mission had been going so well. Entrapta’s tracking device was functioning, the Squad was getting along with the “ecological survey” cover mission to keep Shadow Weaver off her back while she prepared to stab her in hers, Scorpia was keeping hugs to a minimum. Everything was perfect.
And then, she grabbed one fuzzy, glowey, black thing that gave off a unique energy signal to analyze it.
And then every one of its eight million closest friends swarmed in.
And then they chased her a cliff she didn’t see coming.
And then she was falling to her death.
And then—
Just as she was on the upswing, about to fall again, the blonde wild-woman put a finger on her forehead and gently pushed her back onto the jutting metal branch. “And then, there’s this jackass!”
As Catra scurried to the dry trunk of the artificial tree, the jackass in question followed, walking on her knuckles and the balls of her feet, and shaking herself off much like Catra would. The Force Captain didn’t appreciate the imitation. The blonde was covered in mismatched, tattered Horde uniforms, no doubt scavenged from the skeletons she’d already seen scattered around the jungle floor. Between the ratty kaki shorts and ripped grey top, the only color was a torn, sleeveless red jacket.
Catra had witnessed every prisoner sent to Beast Island in the last two decades. Shadow Weaver made sure she understood ‘the cost of failure.’ So, how she’d never seen this woman before was a mystery. Catra would remember someone her own age getting punished like this. Her mentor wouldn’t have passed up on the chance to show her that getting sent to Beast Island for failing a spelling test wasn’t an idle threat. And if she wasn’t sent here as punishment, how did she get to Beast Island?
The Rebels might be dumb enough to get shipwrecked out here, but it’s open water for a hundred miles in every direction. There’s no reason to come out here except to dump prisoners on Beast Island, and only a few people in the Horde know where it is.
Frankly, Catra didn’t care how this person got here. She didn’t care that she swung in on a cable, caught her midair, and carried her away from the fuzzy swarm. All Catra cared about was that this weirdo was staring at her instead of leaving.
“If you’re expecting a thank you,” she growled. “You’re gonna be disappointed, princess. Now, beat it! This tree— ruin— thing! is officially Horde property, and as Force Captain,” she tapped her badge. “I’m ordering you off the premises.”
The blonde just kept staring, tilting her head at the words. “Oh,” she said, rolling her mismatched eyes. “Was that vocabulary too advanced for you? Let me dumb it down: GO. AW-AY. NOW.”
Instead, she knuckle-walked closer. No malice in her eyes, just curiosity. Catra was no stranger to being gawked at, but this was different. Softer? Somehow, she hated it more.
“Stay away,” she hissed, barely hiding the panic as she swiped with her claws. The blonde ducked, eyes wide and fixed on her hand. Finally, they were communicating. “GO,” Catra said slowly, pointing back to the rain. “OR. I. CLAW. YOU.” However, as she was gesturing, the wild-woman grabbed her wrist. She looked at her hand reverently, pressing her own huge hand against it, matching them up finger-to-finger.
When the wild-woman let go, there were tears in her eyes.
“Yeesh,” Catra whispered. She‘s heard the rumors that Beast Island made people crazy, but this? She’s acting like she’s never seen another person befor— oh. Oh no.
Before Catra could let herself feel pity, she was pressed up against the metal trunk of the ruin, the wild-woman’s ear firmly pressed against her chest. She heard the her gasp before pulling back to face her, dopey smile firmly plastered on her mug.
“Ok,” she grunted through gritted teeth. Someone was clearly not mature enough to handle the boob window. “Touch me again, and I’ll slice that ear off and shove it—“
The threat was half-way out of her mouth when the wild-woman, apparently eager to return to favor, wrapped an arm around her head and brought her ear to her chest with surprising speed. As she listened to her pounding heartbeat, Catra quickly realized that she wasn’t being restrained in any way. The woman was barely even hugging her, hand just hovering on the edge on her mane; she could move away easily.
So, she did. The wild-woman looked at her expectantly. “I’m sending you to the same Respecting Personal Space seminar I sent Scorpia.”
She frowned, gesturing to her chest, then to hers in turn, back and forth. Frustration clearly growing, as Catra struggled to figure out what she wanted. Acknowledgement maybe?
Finally, she drew herself up on her heels, and beat her chest. “She-Ra.”
Catra blinked rapidly. ”You can talk? Are you kidding me? What’s going on? Who are you? How did you—“ The wild-woman put a finger to her lips, clearly confused by the stream of speech.
She beat her chest again. “She-Ra.” Then, she gestured to Catra.
The Force Captain cleared her throat. “Yes,” She said. “We both have,” she tapped her chest “nice tits.”
The blonde’s grin returned. “She-Ra,” She said triumphantly, pointing both hands at herself. She gestured them back at Catra, “Nice Tits.”
The image of the wild-woman calling out “Nice Tits!” as she swung by in front her whole squad flashed in her brain, and the Force Captain nearly died from embarrassment right there. “No no no no no no. Not happening.”
“No no no no no no,” She-Ra imitated. “No happening.”
Catra took a deep breath. She touched the woman’s shoulder. “She-Ra.” She pointed to herself. “Catra. She-Ra,” she touched her again. “Catra.”
The woman hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, apparently now worried about angering her. “Catra?” She said quietly. She nodded. “Catra.”
The rain had stopped. In the distance, a signal flare whistled into the air. She-Ra twisted to get a better look, putting herself between Catra and the noise like a shield. “Well, at least Kyle didn’t forget those.”
Another flare went up. “Come on, Kyle! Don’t waste them. I was just giving you credit.”
A third flare whistled up. This time, as Catra groaned, She-Ra dashed to a break in the canopy and pointed to the falling light in the sky. “Kyle!” She shouted, looking back for approval. “Kyle!” That would go uncorrected, Catra decided.
She got up and limped over to her. If growing up in the Fright Zone had taught her anything, it was when to make an alliance. This weirdo could probably show them the whole island, crazy signal source included. “She-Ra,” She said. “Can. You. Take. Catra. To.” She pointed to the flare. “Kyle.”
If the other woman had a tail, it would be wagging. How can you become a people-pleaser without any other people? “Great!” Catra said. “Now, just let me get ready this time—ahhhh!!!”
Naturally, the wild-woman got so excited at the chance to help, she just swept Catra off her feet and started swinging, leaping, and tree-surfing back towards her camp.
It was just one of those days