"Ehm," Ianto says, glancing down at the instrument that the other man has pulled out of his pocket, squinting at it for a few moments to make sense of it before glancing back down the path to try and make sense of where he had come from.

"From camp, towards the crossroads? I think," he adds, because he's rather uncertain about the whole business, to be honest. "That was the intended direction, anyway. Are things generally this..." He waves a hand about them to indicate the volatility of the environment around them.