He just didn't get it, and it ignited Cassandra's rage like kerosene on a flame. Letting out a sound that was somewhere between a shout of frustration and a scream, she abruptly realized she had thrust her hand -- curled into a tiger claw -- at Damian's throat. Eyes widening, she pulled back at the last instant before it could connect.
It was the same technique she'd used when she was six to tear out a man's throat. The thought was chilling and appropriate at the same time.
Letting the hand fall to her side, she continued to hold the dead bat in her other hand as her entire body trembled from unused adrenaline. "S ... sorry," she mumbled, struggling to form words.
After a moment, she looked at him and explained, "you ... do not under ... understand. Life ... easy to stop. Easy to take. Cannot give back after." She took several cleansing breaths, certain he'd have his usual snarky reply.
"I ... was trained, like you, to fight. Kill. Be weapon. When I ... six years old, I killed. Tore out throat." Again, she curled her fingers into a tiger claw shape, perfect for ripping jugulars. "With this."
After a moment of studying her fingers, she held Damian's gaze, to make sure he understood this was the important part. "Man died. I felt it. Watched body language. Pain. Terror. Then ... nothing. Body stopped."
She held up the small creature in her hand. "Bodies always move ... when alive. Heartbeat. Breath. Muscles. Mind. Can see it all. Always movement. Body stops, life leaves."
She directed his attention toward a a cavernous abyss near where they stood, an expanse in the cave so deep the bottom couldn't be seen. "It's like ... looking at person ... and seeing that.