[ Adora's mouth opens and closes and and opens again, incredulously. Then she gives up the fight, hands easing from the door. It's still there, a proliferating shimmer of guilt, but Catra supplies Adora with a welcome peace of mind. A bit of fond amusement, too, remembering how futile all efforts to rope Catra into attending a single Horde briefing had been over the years.

Biting her bottom lip, Adora looks at Catra with an apologetic wrinkle collecting at her brow. She'd like to offer Catra a similar sense of reassurance; but first, she had to explain herself. ]

I shouldn't have left like I did. I don't know what came over me.

[ Her knees almost give out, the fever protesting her. Showing weakness had grown surprisingly less daunting of a behavior with the help of such loving friends surrounding her, but there still remained echoes; like with most everything, however, it came easier with Catra. She didn't have to be anything but Adora with her. ] I haven't felt like myself, not since this morning. And I didn't want anyone to worry, or think that I won't be able to help out or become She-Ra, or for them to get sick too, and — [ she stops there for a second, lets the last statement hang in the air ] — That's why I can't have you around me right now, Catra.