‘Just’ a cat.
Tara almost laughs but she’s kind of in a race against time here, but she’s torn between like, getting the fuck out of there and maybe blowing her cover, because this is Poison Ivy she’s not gonna take any chances what the fuck, and trying to act a bit more like a cat and make a more sneaky exit so she’s absolutely sure she remains unscathed -
like, she doesn’t know much about Poison Ivy. Obviously. People know shit all about her other than her whole plants are more sacred than people thing. She doesn’t think she’ll die though. But like.
It’s Poison Ivy!
Poison is in the name!!!
So all that thought kind of keeps her there for a moment, hand in her fur, okay, that’s fine, she purrs a little bit for good measure, and then just as she’s about to start getting out of there -
yep, that’s 3am.
She knows because she’s suddenly a person kneeling in the grass with Poison Ivy’s hand in her hair.
Great!
This is great!
Everything is fine!!
-- well, that was unexpected.
Ivy automatically tightens her grip a little in the girl’s hair as she’s suddenly a girl and not a cat. Not so much that it will hurt (much), but enough that this girl can’t easily escape her grip.
Pamela has half a mind to just let her go and let her be, but she doesn’t trust humans--as this cat apparently was--and especially not sneaky ones, so she doesn’t.
Instead, she narrows her eyes and demands, “And who are you? What are you doing here?”
She’ll handle the ‘apparently not a cat’ thing later. Magic wasn’t out of the question.