Damian crossed the distance to Cassandra and the fallen bat unhurriedly. The other five bats had already settled themselves in darkened corners of the cave and there was little he could do about the batarang that had embedded itself into the ceiling. Father probably had a contingency for such a thing.
He noted Cassandra's distress but dismissed it, not seeing the importance of getting worked up over it. It was hardly as if the animal had been a pet or had any redeeming value at all. There were dozens more where it came from. It was disposable and easily replaced. (Even just having bats around seemed annoyingly unnecessary.)
He looked over at the bat, noting it was already dead. That spared him the effort of having to finish it off out of mercy. Damian returned Cassandra's glare with a level look, then held out his hand, gaze flickering towards the batarang.