Fear floods her, endless torrents, as Zoanne crouches against the wall.
The muggers turn in a taunting circle around Cass, drawing nearer as they move, widdershins until their elbows touch.
Zoanne can't remember the last time she breathed; she's the worst coward.
"Hey, bitch --"
The guy's words are a trigger: Cass explodes, whirling, leg kicking out higher than her head, elbows crunching faces. No hands, all power. When she's finished, all six men writhe at her feet, begging for Mommy.
She beams at Zo, sweaty and radiant.
"Safe now," she calls. As Zo steps forward, she adds, softly, "sweetheart."
Date Night, DC comics, Cassandra Cain/Zoanne Wilkins
Fear floods her, endless torrents, as Zoanne crouches against the wall.
The muggers turn in a taunting circle around Cass, drawing nearer as they move, widdershins until their elbows touch.
Zoanne can't remember the last time she breathed; she's the worst coward.
"Hey, bitch --"
The guy's words are a trigger: Cass explodes, whirling, leg kicking out higher than her head, elbows crunching faces. No hands, all power. When she's finished, all six men writhe at her feet, begging for Mommy.
She beams at Zo, sweaty and radiant.
"Safe now," she calls. As Zo steps forward, she adds, softly, "sweetheart."