[Ignis immediately freezes, and he assesses the sound around him first. The footsteps are gone, the rustling has too. His own movements were what he was relying upon and with the sudden company also having come to a halt he realizes he can't hear anything else other than the natural sounds coming from the forest. Something strikes him almost like dread, and he wavers, a hand extending as if in search of something, support. A tree, a bush, an arm or a hand. But nothing is there.
He quickly relaxes as his hands come before him to settle instead upon the handle of his walking stick.]
no subject
He quickly relaxes as his hands come before him to settle instead upon the handle of his walking stick.]
I believe I may have taken an impromptu detour.
[He's not going to admit he got himself lost.]