Myia doesn't drop the salt, but she does step closer to where the voices are coming from, squinting at the blurry shapes. When they finally start to form some wingless bats, she stops, dropping the salt straight onto the ground rather than putting it back where it came from.

"Unhanded! Thought you were slugs, just bats, crime bats that set people on fire. Can't catch me with gasoline!"

She reaches into her pocket and takes hold of her knife, not quite pulling it out yet but keeping it within reach, just in case.