I draw my sword and stand there, rooted to the spot as I watch it emerging from the wall.  My heart is pounding in my chest, and for a moment I have the urge to strike it, but reason tells me that those jaws could make short work of any blade, and shorter work of a foolish drow who let herself get too close.<br/><br/>I edge away, warily, and head back to the junction.  On reflection, east is a perfectly good direction to pick.