A grey, pitted tongue licked in and out of its mouth.
At first Tracey thought something was happening to her sight. Losing focus. Perhaps Fear was making her see things, for around its teeth small colours danced, some blue, some yellow, some red. They jigged around its teeth and jagged lips, dancing like so many tiny leaves on an autumnal breeze.
It took Tracey a few moments to wonder if it was fire, but only when flames lengthened upwards, catching hold of and burning the flesh on its cheek, was she certain.
It turned its head away to face Rick.