from this time, unchained
Betsy carefully arched her back- a defensive stance that also represented her readiness to attack just the same. A weapon as lethal as she would not be accustomed to humour under the moonlight; especially at this time where her mind was absorbed in a distinct purpose. The caution in her step was rooted from the idea that her resurrection was not by chance- certainly, there was a mind behind the attempted annihilation. It was never safe to have one's back turned.
The woman was surrounded. Men and women clad in all black- their faces hidden behind sheer pieces of fabric. Ninjas of The Hand. Ninjas she had trained in the past, and ninja she had always beaten and killed. There was a smirk on her face as she removed her cloak to revel signature leather ensemble but in black. "I can read all of your minds." she whispered with confidence- which would allow her to anticipate any attack that would come. What appeared to be 10 ninjas suddenly multiplied to more. In the middle of this alley, she felt eyes looking at her from atop buildings, windows, and even behind her.
She couldn't read all their minds- and the room for escape was futile.
But she was welcomed by a very familiar sound. The powerful flapping of wings that provoked either fear or hope as it sung through the night. The rhythm reminded her of days where the only thing she could feel with that sound was the utmost pour of bliss. Betsy, for a moment in her life, was able to identify with the feeling of happiness. Because of him. Because of the Angel.
She was no longer alone. And The Hand had something more to fear.