The ten minute pause in his journey is spent tensely holding stone still. Even his own ventilations seem too loud as he tries to listen for even the smallest sound. Hearing nothing, Tarn decides that it must have been a fluke. Perhaps the rock had gotten somehow caught under his feet and kicked up into the light post.

Slowly, he begins to relax. After a moment to collect himself he takes another few steps forward; only to be nearly run down by a group of nitrodeer. Flailing, Tarn falls flat on his aft, scrambling backwards and out of their way.

A low wheeze escapes his throat, and his head falls back on his shoulders. It's possible that they may have been the cause of all the small disturbances. Relieved, he internally scolds himself for being so paranoid.