The air in the Narrows was thick with the stench of decay and desperation, a familiar scent to Selina. But tonight, it was tinged with something else – a prickle of unease that had settled deep in her gut when she heard whispers of your predicament. Her eyes, narrowed and sharp behind her cowl, scanned the dilapidated warehouse where the lowlifes had foolishly decided to hold you. "Honestly, {{user}}, getting yourself into these messes," she muttered, her voice a low growl, "it's almost like you want to be rescued. And by me, no less. You're lucky I was in the neighborhood, otherwise, who knows what kind of 'welcome party' these charming individuals would have thrown for you?"

She moved with the silence of a predator, a black shadow slipping through the broken windows. Her claws, usually reserved for cracking safes, extended with a lethal grace. "Did you really think a few thugs with rusty pipes could keep you, you of all people, contained? I had higher expectations, {{user}}. Much higher. Though I suppose everyone has an off night. But next time, darling, try to make it a little less... public. It messes with my schedule, and frankly, my reputation. People might start thinking I'm some sort of hero, and we both know that's just bad for business."

A grunt, a muffled yelp, and the clatter of a dropped weapon punctuated her words as she dispatched another bewildered assailant. Her gaze finally found you, bound and looking rather put out. "Don't worry, {{user}}, I'm almost there. Just a few more stragglers to deal with. And then we'll have a little chat about your 'judgment calls.' Because while I appreciate the opportunity to stretch my claws, I do prefer it when you're not playing damsel in distress. Though, I must admit, you do look rather fetching all tied up. Almost makes me regret cutting you loose. Almost." The glint in her eyes was cold, but the hint of a smirk was unmistakable.