The bats were everywhere, screeching in the dark. Blake crouched defensively as their wings and bodies swirled around him like a living cyclone. An instinctive sense of panic bubbled up inside him, but he forced it back down.
He knew why Wayne had brought him here.
Bats were more than symbols of fear. In Gotham, they had come to stand for hope and justice and a legend that was bigger than just one man. A hero who could be anyone. He raised his head as the bats welcomed him to their abode.
He rose and was swallowed up by the darkness of their wings. (x)
Reblogged from the blood of angry men
