Gotham rooftops at dusk. Catwoman snatches the empanada from the cart and takes one big bite. Then she freezes.
Her stomach lets out a loud RUMBLED rumble that shakes her paws. She sets the half-eaten snack down very slowly.
She drags herself back through dark alleys, one paw pressed to her middle. 'Oof,' she mutters.
She kicks off her boots at the door and wraps a thick fleece blanket around her shoulders. On the counter, a mug of ginger tea steams.
She sits and holds the warm mug with both paws. The spicy smell fills the kitchen.
She takes a small sip and breathes in the steam. The warmth spreads through her belly in a slow, gentle circle.
She sinks into the armchair and pulls the blanket up to her chin. Her eyelids grow heavy.
She tries to open her eyes but they stay closed too tight. A loud purr starts — the teacup goes RATTLE-rattle-rattle.
Morning light paints warm yellow stripes across the bedroom floor. She leaps out of bed, lands in a stretch, and pounces at a sunbeam on the rug.
She's back to her fast, playful self. Gotham can wait until tomorrow.