As primitive as her weapon may have been, it had yet to completely fail her. She clung to it, as well, because it was the last remnant of the world she had come from before ending up here. Not even Jonathan could comfort her like she needed, but she didn't let on to how homesick for Gotham she was. She wouldn't tell anyone. And the whip was a constant reminder of that life before now. A Bruce that knew her, her apartment, the thrill of the heist.
As the underbrush continued to rustle, Selina held her ground. She remained quiet, and despite the fact that the whip crack didn't deter what was approaching, she was ready to see how much of a threat the approaching figure posed.
She had fought a few Netvore, so Selina was confident she could take one or two that attempted to come to her. But anything with powers she wouldn't hold very long against. She was only human, even with all of her skill.
When the figure stepped into her line of sight, Selina straightened her frame and rolled her shoulders back so she was at her full height. The mask the other wore was a bit intimidating but Selina wouldn't let it show. "Who're you?" She inquired, holding the whip handle up. She hoped he wasn't there to try to harm her. She roomed with a man who could grow to twelve feet, and nobody wanted to set Jonathan off if they didn't have to.