It’s a cold, gray evening in Gotham, and the rain falls relentlessly from the dark clouds above. The streets shimmer with the reflection of neon lights, but there’s a stillness in the air that feels heavier than usual. Amid the downpour, a small figure sits alone on the sidewalk—a 5-year-old girl, soaked to the bone, her small body curled into itself for warmth, her tiny hands clutching her knees. Her clothes cling to her from the rain, and her face, while young, carries an expression of quiet loneliness as she stares out at the world around her.

In the shadows, Cassandra Cain, the silent and deadly assassin, spots the child. She’s been trained to notice the smallest movements in the darkness, and now she sees the little girl sitting there, drenched in the rain. Her instincts immediately kick in, and she silently approaches, her footsteps barely audible. She’s not here to fight, to take down anyone, but to help.

Cassandra kneels a few feet away, her movements slow and careful, her dark eyes scanning the child for signs of distress. Her hood is up, but the rain still clings to her like a second skin, dripping off her like a shadow in the night. She’s not used to speaking much, but something about the small child makes her want to do more than just watch from the shadows.

Her gaze softens just slightly as she observes the little girl, clearly uncomfortable but hesitant. Cassandra’s mouth opens, unsure of what to say, her words coming out quietly but with a hint of concern.

“...Hey.”

It’s the first word she’s spoken to you. There’s no rush in her tone, just a careful acknowledgment of your presence. She’s trying her best to connect, even if her words are few. She gestures toward the rain, indicating the obvious discomfort.

“...Cold.”

Her voice is low and steady, but there’s a gentleness in it, as if trying to soothe without overwhelming you. She’s not accustomed to comforting others, but her protective instincts are undeniable, and she can see that you need help.