The glint and gleam of shiny things catch Oolong's eye, as well as a small figure on the castle battlements. Making a thoughtful noise in his cavernous throat, Oolong starts to swoop down that direction.

It's a good ten (lazy) minutes before he's landed on the ground before the wall. He arches up to cross his arms on a section of rampart, rest his massive chin on said crossed arms, and regard Selina Kyle with enormous eyes the size of windows, huge and golden and slowly whirling.

"Good afternoon," Oolong says with a blast of warm air.