Entry tags:

!: action/thread/log, she-ra: adora, she-ra: catra

WHO: Catra & Adora
WHAT: Adora gets herself concussed during Murder Turkeys Day Two
WHERE: Forest-ish area
WHEN: Wednesday morning
WARNINGS: Blood, injury, some gore, some language, murdering of turkeys
STATUS: Complete

This whole murder turkey epidemic was unlike anything Adora had seen before. And given all she had seen in her life (particularly in the last three years), that was saying a lot.

The problem was the sheer amount of them. It wasn’t two or three turkeys charging you down at a time, it was dozens, sometimes hundreds in one place. She and Catra had dispatched a good amount yesterday before she’d gone off to help out at the Homestead, but on her own, she’d earned herself a talon to the face. It wasn’t a pleasant experience but not all that different than the many times in her life she’d gotten Catra’s claws to the face. She ended up with seven stitches across her right cheek, and Catra fussing over her the rest of the day.

But the turkeys didn’t stop after one day.

Today, they were back on duty. Catra had latched onto her, stubbornly refusing to leave her alone after she’d seen what happened when they separated yesterday. Personally, Adora didn’t think it was that big of a deal. She wasn’t new to injury, soreness, or strains when in battle, especially since she started struggling to bring She-Ra to the surface. She appreciated Catra’s concern, though, and tried to comfort her by teasing that she should just handcuff them together — a joke she’d quickly backpedaled when Catra seemed to seriously consider it. They worked well together, but limiting mobility like that wouldn’t have been conducive to taking down these feathery demons.

The morning had been strangely calm so far. They were right on the outskirts of the city, patrolling alongside a long stretch of fenced-in farmland when they were suddenly flocked upon by a hoard of at least seventy-five more. Even though the turkeys were less than half their size, they were on a mission and it was hard to keep up with them in such big numbers. Adora wasn’t much of a fan of snapping necks with her bare hands, but without her sword, the only weapon she had was another staff she’d picked up in her time here. That didn’t do her much good against these killers.

She set to work dispatching them, but it was Catra who seemed to be losing the upper hand on this time. Those birds were on her, and Adora felt that surge of overprotectiveness pushing her into overdrive as she snapped neck after neck after neck, kicking her way through the gobbling little beasts to get to her girlfriend.

“Catra! Are you okay??”

Fuck these fucking goddamn birds. Catra was so fucking done. Ordinarily she wouldn’t even be perturbed by them but she had also seen someone get mauled by them to the point of requiring a dire visit to a hospital, and that was with several other people around lending a hand in fending them off. As stupid-looking as they were, it’d be even more stupid to underestimate them. Splitting up from Adora this time wasn’t going to happen.

They were also abnormally stronger than the normal kind of living poultry from what she recalled someone mentioning. Feathery fucking freaks of nature. Her prey drive twitched at every gobble gobble, teeth and claws having been her best weapon into tearing them to shreds.

Catra’s agility and ability to leap about effortlessly was also an advantage. No point in toying with her prey - she’d use them as a springboard, rip their throats out (yes, she was bloody, though none of it was hers) or snap their necks and jump to the next one. The system worked in her favor flawlessly yesterday and allowed her to escape with bruises and scratches that were hardly visible.

Then she landed on a surprisingly large turkey fucker and was, unexpectedly, bucked off its back. The landing wasn’t anything to cry about - it was the fact that she was on the ground for less than two seconds that caught their attention. These Thanksgiving Feasts on Legs began to swarm.

“I’m fine!” she shouted out, right as she grabbed one that had been about to jack-hammer her with their damn beak. Catra grabbed it to split wide open until there was a sickening crack, a spurt of blood, and she kicked the now-limp turkey corpse off her body.

Right as she went to get up, two more of them came at her to keep her down.

“Seriously?!”

After she’d been taken to the ground yesterday by these abnormally strong birds, Adora knew better than to let her guard down. But she was distracted, trying to keep an eye on Catra and deal with the turkeys coming between them at the same time. She knew Catra could handle herself, and that bloody, cringe-worthy display in front of her was concrete proof. That didn’t stop her urge to protect trying to claw its way out. The image of Catra laying in her arms, breathing what should have been her last, hadn’t left her mind for a single second since she’d been pulled here after their confrontation with Horde Prime. She refused to see it repeated.

Obviously, the turkeys weren’t as much of a threat as Prime. She hadn’t seen any word that someone had died during their encounters, but she knew there had been injuries much more serious than the gash on her face. She didn’t want Catra added to that number; minor bruises and scratches were okay, but if she ended up anything like the woman she’d helped yesterday, Wynonna, Adora would never forgive herself.

She was already headed that way, but her anxiety skyrocketed when Catra hit the ground on her back. She got through it okay, but before she could get up again, two more turkeys were charging toward her, followed by another pair right behind. These turkeys’ intent was crystal clear, and Adora wasn’t taking any chances.

She felt a flicker of something powerful course through her as she pushed forward to put herself between Catra and the birds. There was a brief golden glow around her, but it didn’t last. She was promptly bowled over by the stampeding turkeys, knocked headfirst into the solid wood fence, and she was out cold.

So this position wasn’t ideal in the slightest. Talons and beaks coming at her in different directions while she felt cornered - hell no. Catra identified a jab in her arm, the tip of something unfairly sharp scratch her thigh, and she was seconds away from going outright feral with the use of her teeth going right for the throat of the nearest one instead of claws, until -

“Adora, stop!” Then, a glow that disoriented all of them, turkeys included. They let out garbled shrieks as stumbled back clumsily with wings flailing, and Catra saw the way a pack of them pummeled through Adora in a wave of wild frenzy.

She put those razor-sharp teeth to use instantly, letting her instincts take over to go for the kill - and then another kill and another, working through to keep the rest away from an Adora that had collapsed onto the ground unconscious. A blaring of sounds shot off not far, probably a few others fighting in the distance that distracted the rest. That allowed Catra the freedom to crowd Adora, her own body hunched over hers as a ready shield in case more came back.

“Hey, hey, wake up,” Catra called out, her voice escalating in volume. Her hands were on her first to check for any wounds. Any bleeding, dislocated bones. The damn turkeys kept making their shrill nature calls and were beginning to sound a lot closer so she had no choice but to start shaking her with more vigor and shouting louder. “C’mon, Adora, up! I will pick your ass up if I have to but I’d prefer not because you’re heavy, dumbass! Wake up!”

Adora wasn’t out for long — less than a minute. But she stirred back into consciousness slowly. She could hear a voice talking to her, but she couldn’t identify the owner. It was garbled and faint like she was hearing it from underwater, but the volume made it easy to pick up on the tone: frantic and a little…angry.

The back of her head ached and felt tender, and as she woke, she realized that wasn’t the only rough spot. Her entire head felt ready to split, pounding pain across her entire forehead. She blinked once, twice, three times before her eyes finally opened. Even then, her vision was blurry, and what she assumed was someone’s face in front of her own was nothing more than a vaguely oval-shaped dark blur. She blinked again, intentionally this time, forcing a few in rapid succession until what she saw became clearer.

Her heart jumped in her chest when she realized Catra was hovering over her. And not in a happy, fluttery way like it did more often than she’d ever admit. She instinctively flinched back, panicked and confused. Her head was all muddled. She didn’t understand what was going on, and why Catra was here. She knew it couldn’t be for any good reason because it never was.

“Catra—” What did you do? She took a breath, one hand clenching into the grass by her side. “What happened?” Her voice came out hard but shaky; her head hurt too much to project the proper edge and distance she tried to keep during her encounters with Catra.

What -

Catra could understand the disarray Adora must be feeling. The glow - She-Ra, most likely, even if it was brief - must have been a surprise. Getting tackled by a bunch of rabid, mid-sized fucking birds right into the fence didn’t look painless. Some confusion was to be expected, but what she didn’t expect was that flinch. That look.

She knew it, had seen it in the battlefield over the years more than once; that guarded, almost cold glare of her eyes. Adora may have always hoped Catra would come around but she knew stamping that feeling down while they came to blows was necessary. They were soldiers, fighting on opposite sides, too much shit having gone down between them for none of it to not be considered personal. Every slash of Catra’s claws, every swing of Adora’s sword - it was always personal.

And it was as if Adora was expecting her to aim her claws at her again, to attack. As if they hadn’t woken up a couple hours ago wrapped up in each other, as if Catra hadn’t pressed small, featherlight kisses against the fresh stitches woven into her face.

The turkey calls sounded faint even in her sensitive ears. White noise drowning in the distance. Those seconds of silence between her and Adora as her brain cells tried to come together and figure out how to react felt like they stretched on for slow, dragging minutes. Her body was screaming to wrap her up in her arms.

Her brain, however, overruled the urge.

“We have to get up before they come back,” Catra answered with a surprising amount of level-headedness despite her heart breaking into pieces. She kept her hands to herself, claws consciously sheathed for this interaction. “I think you channeled She-Ra for a quick second right before they tackled you down. We should get your head checked, okay?”

Before they come back.

That struck a chord. Something was coming for them. Adora’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to piece together what was going on. Her eyes swept around the area they were in — they weren’t in the Fright Zone but some vague, forested area she felt like she knew. Her brain just wasn’t fitting everything together properly, and when she tried to concentrate too hard, it caused an awful stab of pain.

She knew Catra was on her side, though, felt it in her bones. The way she was looking at her was different than what she’d expected. Softer. The lack of a snarky reply was a good indicator that she wasn’t connecting all the dots, too. The Catra she was expecting would definitely have called her a dumbass by now, but instead, she explained what had happened calmly.

“Okay,” she murmured. She was surprised to hear She-Ra had come out since she’d been struggling with her so much, but she decided it wasn’t worth questioning. “What are we running—” She paused mid-push to her feet, lowering her head when she was hit with a dizzy spell. Her head was killing her; it felt like it was seconds from falling off her body.

Exercising a grain of patience was a challenge in a high-stress situation, but the last thing Catra wanted to do was make Adora think she had to be on the defensive against her. It wouldn’t be productive. They had come out to fight, they fought, and now her top priority was to pave a safe way towards the clinic for a proper examination.

All the hurt could be shoved down, locked away for later - it wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve it. Adora’s reaction wasn’t her fault. It was Catra’s, and it was a consequence of her actions.

“Crazy turkeys,” she replied, suspending the no touch rule she imposed on herself to catch her before she possibly tumbled back to the ground. “Arm around my neck, we’ll get you up slow.” Fuck, not too slow I hope. “Do you trust me?”

Catra needed to know before she continued if just to get an idea if should expect any resistance in getting Adora to safety. At the moment it wasn’t possible to just run past the throng of turkeys ahead towards city streets, but she could get her into cover - it’d give Adora time to get her head straight again.

“Yes.” Adora’s answer fell naturally off her tongue and her arm wrapped around Catra’s neck without a second thought. Her brain was whirring, trying to understand why she was responding this way. But through the confusion, she just knew without a doubt Catra could be trusted. And crazy turkeys —

Something slotted back into place, and she lifted her eyes to Catra’s. “Vallo. Right? We’re in Vallo.” She didn’t actually need an answer; once that clicked, it all started coming in like an onslaught. Guilt reddened her cheeks and her heart sank when she realized how terrible she must have made her girlfriend feel. One day into being girlfriends and she smacked her head, lost her mind and started treating her like the enemy. It was only a few minutes, but it was a few minutes too many.

Her arm tightened around Catra’s neck and she dipped her head to kiss her cheek. She opened her mouth again to apologize, but an all-too-familiar sound reached her ears instead. She never thought a simple bird call would raise her anxiety so quickly and strike terror into her heart. Twice now she’d gotten beat up by turkeys of all things, and she wasn’t looking to go another round. She didn’t think she could right now.

“Yeah. Clinic. I should—” She nodded but immediately regretted her choice. A pained groan escaped her and her head throbbed again. It had to be a concussion; she’d had a couple of bad ones back during their Horde training and it felt about the same. Maybe a little worse this time.

Brief memory loss. Headaches. Disorientation. That checked off as symptoms for a pretty nasty concussion - and she’d seen Adora conk her head over the years, her skull was particularly hard but this hit had thrown her for a loop. Catra tried not to focus on the relief causing her stomach to somersault when she at least became aware of where she was. Adora’s memory would be fine, albeit sort of scrambled but she couldn’t stress about that now. Feelings didn’t matter. Accomplishing her goal in finding cover did.

“I got you,” Catra promised and tightened an arm around her waist. The kiss to the cheek wasn’t reacted to. The turkey switched directions - away from them - and she mustered up the stealth and strength required to tug Adora along unnoticed. Hiding among a cluster of trees was the best bet. Worst case scenario they could scale up the trunk and get a height advantage. Observation taught her that turkeys were shit at flying and could only manage short distances with brief spurts of energy, and she wouldn’t hesitate to make Adora climb onto her back while she clawed her way up if need be.

For now, they could remain grounded as long as they remained undetected. Carefully, tenderly, Catra lowered Adora to the ground so she could lean against a tree trunk for support. Her ears twitched, assessing any noises around them. All the gobble was far off. The scents in the area weren’t anything foreign; woodland animals, earth, blood and sweat.

This was as safe as they could get for the moment.

It gave Catra the chance to give her a proper inspection. That meant cradling her face gingerly (because stitches) into her hands, checking her pupils and how her eyes focused. “Brain damage check,” she announced seriously, but her eyes were soft with worry. “Remember your name? What you had for breakfast? Tell me if anything feels broken or sprained.”

Adora helped, of course, pushing herself forward so Catra didn’t have to fully support her. She had a few inches and a few pounds on her, and she didn’t want to overburden her. She still felt a little shaky all over, but the farther away they got from the potential of murder turkeys, the better. She couldn’t give in to the want to collapse until they got somewhere safe.

The grove of trees Catra dragged them into would offer them the cover they needed. Adora squeezed her girlfriend’s hands thankfully as she helped lower her to the ground, then tipped her head back to rest against the tree trunk to rest. She’d shaken her memory loss, but it was still spotty and a little out of order. She rubbed her hand across her forehead, then letting it fall when Catra’s hands cradled her face.

Blue eyes lifted to blue and gold. Ordinarily, she would scoff and dismiss the idea of a brain damage check. But she’d never gotten whacked in the head quite this hard. She couldn’t remember the exact how, but the pain made it clear that was exactly what had happened. It dulled a bit when she stopped moving, at least. Made it easier to focus on Catra and try to dutifully answer the questions she was asked.

“Adora. I don’t…remember breakfast,” she admitted. “But I don’t think anything’s broken. Back hurts, head hurts, but—” She raised both hands and reached out to cup Catra’s face in her hands and pull her in closer. “Everything seems like it’s working.”

Her inability to remember breakfast wasn’t the end of the world or anything, but still slightly worrisome. Catra pulled her hands away. They were caked in blood and the last thing they needed was an accidental infection to the wound on Adora’s face even if the stitches kept her skin sewn together as much as possible.

“We’re going to wait until it’s cleared up more ahead to find a Waypoint, okay?” Turning her head, she pressed a kiss to one of her palms before settling in next to her. “If I hear anything coming we’ll just climb the trees - for birds they can’t fly worth shit, we’d be safe up there.”

Taking a minute to for a breather was fine. The adrenaline coursing through her kept her restless, the active tail lashes proof of that - but she could at least ignore the soreness of her own body fine. Catra had grown with pain, lived with it and domesticated it. Bruises and body aches were nothing.

“M’sorry,” Adora mumbled, her voice wavering. She probably sounded downright pitiful, and she hated that. “I’m an idiot. We wouldn’t have to be hiding if I hadn’t gotten hurt.”

She hated all of this. She didn’t like being helpless, being a burden, but she couldn’t fathom moving much right now. Her head was still intermittently spinning, and she needed a few more minutes to recover. As long as Catra was okay with it, she was going to take the time. But that didn’t mean she was blind to their situation and how it was making Catra feel — the rapidfire lashing of her tail made that clear.

She wanted to pick up Catra’s hand and hold it, but she was blood-soaked, so instead, she leaned against her side. She was trying to put her guard back up, trying not to succumb to the urge to sit there bonelessly, but she felt tired. The exact details of how she’d gotten this way were still fuzzy. Obviously, it was turkey-inflicted, but her head hurt even worse when she tried to remember too much.

Any excess blood was soon wiped off into the fabric of her leggings, whatever was wet left anyway - she had some dried into bits of her fur, and she was in dire need of a decent scrubbing but she felt the need to hold at the moment. Catra wasn’t angry. Annoyed, maybe, that Adora had decided to jump in before Catra had a chance to go feral on a bunch of fucking birds but definitely not mad.

“If we happen to die because of turkeys then we deserve it,” she chuckled raspily, attempting to make light of the situation - she and Adora were formidable in their own right, and look at them now after facing a stampede of birds. Hiding. Catra’s arm (claws remained withdrawn, she couldn’t fight down the need to be overcautious) went around her waist, anchoring her close while she kept on listening to the faint rustles and sounds around them. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. But I think we’re done for today, yeah?”

Catra could go for a couple more hoards without an issue. Adora could not, so it was straight to the clinic and home. She was benching her.

Adora frowned. She didn’t want that. She was used to being in the midst of it all. This really should be nothing compared to taking on Horde soldiers, but those turkeys were evil and determined. They’d dealt her more damage in two days than she’d sustained in years of coming up against Catra and her former classmates. With how concussed she was, there was no way she could handle anymore. But it wasn’t in her to just give up.

“I’ll take the day,” she agreed. She knew she wasn’t going to win if she tried to argue, so she would concede to that. “But just today. I wanna help. I can handle it.” She was famously stubborn and that wasn’t going to change, no matter how badly she was concussed.

“Adora,” Catra exhaled her name in a warning, the arm around her squeezing. “Part of the battle is knowing when to back off and rest - that’s how you fight smart. You don’t help anyone trying to help out when you’re hurting.”

She didn’t mean to dishearten her - she was just being practical, stating the reality of the situation. Adora was hurt. Logically, she should rest. There shouldn’t even be an argument, though her girlfriend (that was going to take a bit to get used to) was being predictably bullheaded about it. “Let’s just focus on getting the hell out of here first, okay? Any thoughts on how tomorrow will go can go fuck itself right now,” she sighed. “Remember what you had for breakfast yet?”

Of course Adora knew Catra was right. She would probably be making the same argument if their circumstances were flipped. It just wasn’t in her to give in that easily, not when she knew they needed everyone they could and she could help. But she would revisit that conversation later. Unfortunately, at the moment, she knew there wasn’t much she could do.

“Uhhhh.” She thought for another minute, biting down on her bottom lip. Her eyes widened when it finally came to her. “A short stack of pancakes…bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, and…eggs? I think fried eggs. Right?”

“Yuuuuuup,” Catra confirmed, popping the p at the end with a tentative smile. “Breakfasts of champions.” That was a good sign; meant her brain was getting a little less scrambled. She leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, just a tiny one. That’s all they could afford at the moment.

She was hesitant, anyway. Part of her was afraid of being too much right now, especially after that… look.

The turkey calls in the distance faded more. Catra shifted, moving to a crouch to really listen. Once she was satisfied, she rose to her feet. “I think we’re in the clear. We should take the chance if we can. Think you can walk on your own?”

Adora knew Catra well enough to recognize when she was holding back. She tried not to dwell on it too much, but she knew it was her fault. She’d woken up in hostile mode; it wasn’t purposeful, but it wasn’t fair, not after how well they’d been doing lately. She would apologize to her again properly later, when they were home and relatively safe.

She took a deep breath and slowly rose beside Catra. She took a second to make sure she was steady on her feet, arms out to keep her balance. “Yeah,” she said, once the brief dizziness felt like it had passed. “I won’t be running, but I can move. Can I hold your hand?” She held hers out, brushing her fingers across Catra’s wrist. “In case?”

Catra was attentive, of course; watching for any signs of wobbling or unstable footing, prepared to catch her if she tilted too far to one side. Adora seemed fit to walk but she’d keep a close eye on her regardless. She was fucking queen of pushing herself to the limits and while it was imperative they get the fuck out and go to the clinic, she didn’t want her to be stupid about it.

That offer to hold hands, though - Catra took it instantly, interlocking fingers for a secure grip. “Duh,” she smirked, the tip of a fang peeking out. “You don’t have to suffer a head injury to hold hands with me, princess. Going to these extremes must be so embarrassing for you.”

Adora’s heart fluttered at the sight of that fang popping out. She knew that was a good sign. They were going to get out of here, get through this, and everything was going to be fine.

“Worth it if I get to see you smile like that,” she grinned, squeezing their joined hands. She tugged her girlfriend closer, just for a second, and pressed a proper kiss to her lips. “You know you like it.”

“Not the head injury,” Catra scoffed and reciprocated that kiss with a second one, the press of their lips lingering a tad longer. “This is me giving you blanket permission to hold my hand any time. Now let’s go - we’re gross and dirty and you’re helping me get all this blood off my fur.”