“…Who are you?” she hisses, eyes smouldering like embers in the darkness.
You stare at her, barely able to breathe. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel ready to either laugh hysterically or break down in tears. How dare she creep up on you like that? (You hope she didn't hear your small squeak of surprise, and misunderstand it as fear.)
After a few moments, your racing pulse quietens, and you find your voice.
“Who am I? I … I don't know.” Though your voice is hoarse, you're proud of how assertive you sound, of how firmly you hold that uncanny green gaze. You are only briefly disconcerted by the strange way in which the echoes seem to bounce from wall to wall, before humming out of existence.
The woman, unblinking, continues to stare at you. Being unable to see anything but her hands, and her eyes, you nevertheless have the strange sensation that the quality of her watching has changed; She seems to regard you thoughtfully, instead of with the baleful accusation that bored into you just seconds before.
All at once, she sweeps her voluminous robes into her arms, and swoops away.