His uncertainty remains, but it's a smaller thing than it had begun as, and there's that deep lonely part of him that just wants someone to take control, to impose some kind of order on the confusion and fear this place is causing him. So he hesitates only a moment longer before his mouth sets into a resolute line and his hands sneak down to the pistols at his hips, briefly touching them, just a little reminder to himself that he isn't entirely defenseless.

They move quickly away again though - he doesn't like them, much, would rather not use them at all - and then begins to follow her, just a couple of paces behind.