Indeed, for the shoreline's ambience was devoid of all but the water's wake. The shipwreck's offal buffeted in the sands with slightly variant hollow rhythms, but no birds beckoned or bickered, no insect screeched from hiding places.<br/><br/>No other creature, save the woman before him, made sight nor sound. She made no motion as the man took his step, as if he was no more a threat than the field of shattered timber he'd lifted himself from.<br/><br/>At last, she tipped her head just so to the left and replied with a throaty, unpracticed accent: "Are...you?"<br/><br/>Her mouth was teeth. Most mouths had teeth, but hers were not the teeth one would see in most women's mouths. Tusk like canines erupted from her lower jar, just barely peeking above her lower lip- a trick of the eyes, a shadow, until one knew better- four curved counterparts flanked them from above.  The four teeth between the flesh rippers- above and below- were almost normal, crooked, even. And then...there were teeth. The man had little time to see in full, but instinct would warn of their uncommon, predatory shape.