Sanzo stumbled back a foot, cursing, barely managing to avoid stepping on the creature. The thing was surprisingly agile. Far more than he would have thought. It had already moved to get out of the way almost seconds before the collision. The new arrival, unfortunately, did little to frighten it off... although it kept a more respectable distance now that the monk wasn't alone.

Sanzo - regaining his balance - straightened, staring at the woman he'd collided with.

The first thing he sensed was that she was not the same as people he'd encountered so far. Compared to the wraith-like translucence of the citizens of this place, this woman was a startling change. Black hair, red-brown eyes - warm compared to all the nearly colorless ones he'd seen so far, and not empty - and a pleasant enough face.

Not that Sanzo was the best judge of that. Gojyo would have loved running into this woman however: what she wore was certainly not from China, and he wasn't sure if she'd have gotten away with it back home. Almost skin-tight, black, and made of some strange material that stretched over a generous chest.

Thankfully, Sanzo wasn't the roach.

Regardless, this woman had no right to be standing out there in the middle of a busy street, and Sanzo wasn't about to offer any apologies for it. The most he was willing to offer right now was not having her look down the barrel of the Smith & Wesson.

"Who are you?"