Pressed against the wall, unaware of his possible narrow escape, Light is still listening with everything he's got. He's not unused to guns, not since he arrived in the mansion and got taught to use one, so the little noises aren't as unfamiliar as, perhaps, they ought to be.

So he's up against someone armed - quickly, he runs through all the usual templates in his head. A Matt, perhaps, or a Mello? Or someone he's not accustomed to, some variation, like him..?

Regardless of anything, one thing he knows outright is that anything handling a weapon in the corridor is human, and that anything that wasn't would be around the corner and on him by now, drawn by instinct or scent. And whoever it is out there, they're his problem to deal with, whether he likes it or not.

It's with that in mind that he takes a deep breath, in the end, and raises his voice, as if it's nothing. "Oi, whoever's out there," he calls, speaking clearly rather than yelling. "Can I interest you in some tea?"