[she is not so unalert (or as unafraid as she might pretend to be, later) that the shift in light surrounding them passes by her notice - her mouth is a gory splat of gruesomeness against the paleness of her skin, eyes like predator's pinpricks in the dark - but she can't immediately make out whose silhouette watches them.]

[only that it is a someone, not a something, and that's all that keeps her from immediate flight.]

Who's there?