Without any immediate focus on her, Sombra's quicker on the draw: snaps her SMG out and fires wide (at the root of those corded, sinewy tentacles) to keep from accidentally clipping Lena in the process of trying to save her as she's dragged roughly across flesh and bone.

It isn't quick. There's a surplus of the things, and despite her solid aim, they're fast enough to make things difficult. By the time Sombra's cleared the worst out, she realizes they're at the bottom of that steep slope leading inward, paused in the proverbial belly of the beast beneath streaming sunlight.

If she wasn't in a hurry before (she was), something about this place has her anxious beyond reason, gripping Lena by her arm and pulling upright to help her back on her feet sooner rather than later.

"Come on, back on your feet. You can nap later, amiga."