Joel wastes no time in idling about. He's instantly on the move again, shoving his gun back into place and then reaching back for his bow. He whips an arrow out, too, nocks it ready against the string, throws a cursory glance over his shoulder towards where he'd heard the sound. If they are being followed by someone - or several someones - it'll be safer to take them down by stealth while running through the woods at night than to draw attention to themselves by means of gunshots.

He hears another twig snapping, followed by a scampering of faint footsteps. Shit. His own feet crunching over dead leaves and branches, regardless how quiet he's trying to be, sounds about as subtle as firecrackers going off to him.

"Take cover," he hisses in a whisper to Ellie, and trusting that she'll do exactly that, Joel leaps over a rock jutting out from the ground, over a thick log and then crouches down behind it. Listens hard, bow and arrow ready. Ready to launch attack without mercy.

Jesus, he's already had enough of this bullshit.