John fell easily into his usual role- following Sherlock Holmes- but this time he was careful and wary, keeping his wits about him as best he could. Gradually, Sherlock's shape developed definitively in the dim light, and any lingering concerns John had about someone pretending to be him to knock him off guard dwindled away and died. Even without the coat and and bulked up in a hoodie and jeans, Sherlock's gait and posture was unmistakable.
He kept the knife in his hand, though. There was no telling when they might be joined by someone a lot less friendly.

"I was trying to find somewhere to hole up," he called forward. "Did you find somewhere?"