John follows without pause, keeping an eye on both Sherlock's back and the path behind them. Likely unnecessary, chances are nothing (or no one) is going to attack them from behind. He does it anyway.

It's took quiet, too easy. He doesn't like it.

Something feels off, makes his skin crawl uncomfortably and his blood race. As much as he doesn't like it he can't deny how much he has missed this, running, searching for the answer to some murder or riddle. The danger.

"This looks safe." Not at all like it could collapse underneath them at any moment.