She paused to watch gulls squabble over a dead crab, then strolled on, humming to herself. The log shape drifted closer but still looked harmless. She stopped noticing it, more focused on the cold breeze and the steady hiss of waves rolling over the beach.
A sudden wet gust behind her rattled like a burst of wind. It wasn’t wind—she heard a deep, steady breath, almost a sigh. Then a low growl rumbled across the sand. Gooseflesh prickled up her arms. She spun around and froze.