Searren follows after Coal, with a quick look to Tras. "Keep a sword in the rear, I would think." Not very bright to let something sneak up on the softer folks first, now is it?
As he walks, the knight holds his candle out, and tilted, so that the wax drips to the floor, in a steady, almost measured pace. Hopefully, it'll be a little less tasty than Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumbs... and hopefully, it'll keep them from doubling back on themselves. The dust, after all, may not continue. For a man in armor, he is surprisingly quiet, fluid, elven grace serving to mute much of the noise of his movement, yet he's still in armor, and that, at least, is audible.