"You know... he could probably get through a golf club." Bruce raises an eyebrow, just a bit, appraising. (Seriously though, for the record, getting mauled by a dog even half Huan's size really hurts. Yes he is going to harp on that in meta for all eternity... more than the human-inflicted injuries or elder gods, apparently.)

And then he settles into a more serious tone, watching her with a quiet look before trying a more fragile smile. "Thanks." Genuinely. He doesn't need charity, even without access to his Gotham City bank account, but - Hasi is his friend. He doesn't have many real ones.

Slowly, letting that settle, "I hope you need something fixed up, so I can contribute in return, because I can't exactly make you dinner..." Do Pop-Tarts even exist in Baedal?