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It was a beautiful spring evening, just cool enough to make a scenic hike perfectly pleasant, Adora thought. She could picture it now: one more rise, one more bend on the steep mountain trail, and they would be perfectly positioned to take in the sunset (the sunset!) as the still-strange golden light sank and bathed the Whispering Woods below. She turned to Catra, half a pace behind her, eager to share her excitement (and maybe a kiss) (kissing!).
That was when part of the trail collapsed under Catra’s clawed foot, sending terror and sorrow to replace the fondness in her eyes, and sending her spilling over the edge into the void. Their fingertips brushed and Catra screamed, the howl trailing after her like a ghost.
Without thought, without question, Adora followed. “For the honor of Grayskuuuuuull!”
There, Adora thought, wings folding tight for a controlled dive, there was Catra, tumbling away from her, falling, flailing, claws scrabbling for rock just out of reach. Adora swooped, mustering every bit of speed as her girlfriend continued to accelerate, reaching out, thanking Etheria that her arms were just that much longer as She-Ra, grabbing Catra’s arm and pulling her close, locking them into a tight embrace that would have been passionate if they weren’t both so terrified, because Adora had no idea what came next.
“Adora!” Catra screamed. “You have wings?!?”
“I have wings?” Adora asked, and immediately began to tumble as her conscious mind took priority over raw instinct, breaking her acrobatic dive. “Oh, hey, I have wings!” (wings!) She flapped them giddily, halting their descent.
***
Catra just stared at her girlfriend as her mood shifted from terrified to flabbergasted to amazed. Like, she’d been dumbstruck by She-Ra’s beauty the first time she’d really gotten to appreciate the transformation, but this. This was… The full plumage of the white-feathered wings was shot through with flecks of gold. They were nothing like the risible rainbow appendages of Adora’s stupid horse or even the delicate gossamer things of Glimmer’s late mother. These were majestic, strong; the wings of a conquering angel. (Her face suddenly reddened as she imagined them tenting over her as Adora made love to her; that was a thought for later (but hopefully not too much later.))
“You, uh, caught me.” She managed instead. Adora just grinned goofily in response. “Funny,” Catra breathed, tracing one claw along Adora’s cheek, light enough to do no more than tickle but still potent enough to draw a hint of a gasp from the most powerful woman in the galaxy. “Because really, I should be trying to catch you.”
“Heh,” Adora managed. “Do you–do you mind if I try to put us down? Just for a minute? I still don’t know how these things work? Or even how I got them? Or how long they last?”
“You didn’t know you had wings? You could have died!”
“You were in trouble,” Adora says quietly, and with four words cuts the rant forming in Catra’s throat off at the knees, so deftly that Catra nearly chokes on the silence left there in its place. And so, instead, she simply presses against Adora’s chest and purrs, knowing nothing she can possibly say is sufficient reply. She purrs and purrs, and lets her tail curl around Adora’s back, cords of muscle working as her wings flap with powerful beats, and when solid ground is once again beneath their feet, she pulls Adora into a kiss.
They miss the sunset.