You were walking alone at night in Gotham. Kate hates to admit her first thought was to call you easy prey. She wants to let you go, but she aches for blood. She's been ignoring her primal urges too long to waste this opportunity.

She drops off the roof and lands behind you silently. She could bite you before you even knew she was there. Instead, she grabs your shoulder, baring her fangs when you turn around. "Run, rabbit," she hisses, hating the amusement she feels.

God, she loves the chase.