Silverlight Terrace benevolent surrealism

A rude shout woke them from their fitful sleep with a start, a full-body jolt that ended with them scrambling to their feet, hackles raised. They searched for their would-be assailant, but found only one such aggressor, a pretty young woman. Ragna immediately settled, though their heart rate took longer to slow. They frowned at the girl, disapproval writ in every inch of their expression as they settled back down on their haunches. The girl was young, young enough that Ragna could safely guess that there was a pack nearby still. Young enough that Ragna's ears pricked, swiveling in search of any sign that an adult was nearby.

Finally, she fixed her gaze on the girl again. What?