Technically, Noodles wasn't Selina's dog, but she'd discipline the thing just the same if it kept whining and barking in the living room. Being able to sleep until eight in the morning while living a life like Cara Davies' was something of a luxury, and with splinters in her back and a healing lip from a caper gone wrong just the night previous.. Exuberant mutts were low on Selina Kyle's list of priorities. Dogs just didn't intuit things in the way cats did; it was a controversial stance in a place like San Francisco (warm, sunny, dog-park-Hallmark-romances everywhere), but that mentality hadn't stopped her over the last few months. It wouldn't stop her now. The giant mutt bounded into the bedroom once Selina's very-human feet had audibly hit the floor, paws and tongue and excited smile all armed and dangerous -- eager to show off what she'd found. The human was nonplussed.
For Christ's sake..
Aside from chewing on the leather bullwhip and nosing around the bodysuit that'd been dropped to the floor, Noodles was pretty harmless being.. Save for the early hours where a certain blonde body hadn't been well-equipped with caffeine. Add the sting of a failed grab, the physical pain that came with it (being thrown through a table was less than convenient), and it was the perfect kind of sensational cocktail that Selina'd unwillingly sipped. Dear reader, you can steal the 'hair of the dog' pun that'd been dangling in the air from the Catwoman herself. She'd let you have it; she was otherwise occupied.
You see.. There was an orange tabby sitting patiently at the slider door near the rear of the house -- pacing and pawing against the glass, clearly seeking attention in any form. Noodles had given it first, whining and barking, bouncing like she'd been excitably waiting for a new game to play; but when the cat had been given eye contact from the human in the vicinity, however, it stilled.
Who're you, little one?
Selina was no stranger to cats on the whole; it'd be foolish to assume anything else. She was a familiar, a state of being that'd seemed to drive the canine next to her into a fit of confusion. When Selina crouched to give the cat more consideration, Noodles upped her own ante, bringing over a chew toy and dropping it at her caretaker's feet. The mutt was just like her owner, it seemed. Tireless. And yet, who was the one with the power in the situation?
Selina's own toothy grin was the thing she caught in the slider's reflection when she opened it, letting the lean tabby into the house without second thought. Noodles bolted from the front door to the back, greeting her new four-legged friend with all kinds of sniffs and bops -- something that the cat looked to Selina for guidance on. In arguably the kindest gesture she'd probably made this week, she nodded.
"You're safe, little lady," she reassured, reaching her hand out to scratch under the young cat's chin, who'd purred in response before batting playfully back at the big, white dog. Watching the two carefully, offering her own sage reassurance when it was needed, the two house animals bounded around Selina's legs -- yelping and skidding in a way that boded no physical harm, at least. The two had water; she'd pick up something decent for them to eat when all was said and done this afternoon.
With Cara Davies' phone pinging like a pinball machine in the corner, her attention diverted -- mentions of a disappearing, glowing something at the center of a maze. Screw the Iron Man thing.. That was more like it.
From somewhere in the house, a streak of orange fur giddily pounced on an unsuspecting mutt.
The Catwoman smiles. Cara hates cats; it was just icing on the cake.
For Christ's sake..
Aside from chewing on the leather bullwhip and nosing around the bodysuit that'd been dropped to the floor, Noodles was pretty harmless being.. Save for the early hours where a certain blonde body hadn't been well-equipped with caffeine. Add the sting of a failed grab, the physical pain that came with it (being thrown through a table was less than convenient), and it was the perfect kind of sensational cocktail that Selina'd unwillingly sipped. Dear reader, you can steal the 'hair of the dog' pun that'd been dangling in the air from the Catwoman herself. She'd let you have it; she was otherwise occupied.
You see.. There was an orange tabby sitting patiently at the slider door near the rear of the house -- pacing and pawing against the glass, clearly seeking attention in any form. Noodles had given it first, whining and barking, bouncing like she'd been excitably waiting for a new game to play; but when the cat had been given eye contact from the human in the vicinity, however, it stilled.
Who're you, little one?
Selina was no stranger to cats on the whole; it'd be foolish to assume anything else. She was a familiar, a state of being that'd seemed to drive the canine next to her into a fit of confusion. When Selina crouched to give the cat more consideration, Noodles upped her own ante, bringing over a chew toy and dropping it at her caretaker's feet. The mutt was just like her owner, it seemed. Tireless. And yet, who was the one with the power in the situation?
Selina's own toothy grin was the thing she caught in the slider's reflection when she opened it, letting the lean tabby into the house without second thought. Noodles bolted from the front door to the back, greeting her new four-legged friend with all kinds of sniffs and bops -- something that the cat looked to Selina for guidance on. In arguably the kindest gesture she'd probably made this week, she nodded.
"You're safe, little lady," she reassured, reaching her hand out to scratch under the young cat's chin, who'd purred in response before batting playfully back at the big, white dog. Watching the two carefully, offering her own sage reassurance when it was needed, the two house animals bounded around Selina's legs -- yelping and skidding in a way that boded no physical harm, at least. The two had water; she'd pick up something decent for them to eat when all was said and done this afternoon.
With Cara Davies' phone pinging like a pinball machine in the corner, her attention diverted -- mentions of a disappearing, glowing something at the center of a maze. Screw the Iron Man thing.. That was more like it.
From somewhere in the house, a streak of orange fur giddily pounced on an unsuspecting mutt.
The Catwoman smiles. Cara hates cats; it was just icing on the cake.