[ Tim has indeed caught sight of the tiny mouse darting around the walls at the edge of his vision. He had assumed the temple made a good home for rodents. It was, at least out of the elements.

Other than the occasional glance to check that the movement wasn't larger and more threatening, he hasn't paid her any mind. The Batcave is full of bats – mice are an improvement. They can’t get caught in your hair.

When the mouse comes up to him, he thinks it’s a bold one. When it speaks, both eyebrows raise, but this is a teenager who regularly sees talking animals of all shapes and sizes, albeit only one color. Beast Boy can only do green.

This isn’t Gar Logan though. After a moment of consideration – and to get a good look to make sure she’s not wearing any of Pied Piper's control devices, Tim extends his pinkie towards her. It’s still too big for her to shake, but if the mouse or mouse-person can speak, she might also have a sense of social pleasantries. ]

Mrs. Brisby, it’s nice to meet you. My name’s Tim. Are you a native, or did you fall through the same magical tunnel as the rest of us?