For a heartbeat, Motoko blinked at Sheeana, realizing swiftly that this was her headspace. And then she turned and saw the oncoming worm.

Son of a Bitch.

The servos in her legs powered up with a whine, but the sand was too soft to support a full leap. Dry sand spilled over her boot toes as she started off towards that beckoning hand. Impacting moistened ground made movement come easier, and in a moment she'd cleared it.