Noctrine Forest is vastly different from the gardens Ames and Daisy just arrived from.
It's so dark that their pupils dilate, trying to catch whatever light they can--phosphorescent light is all well and good, but the trail they're following is torn earth and churned branches. Any moss or mushrooms that were once glowing have been too badly damaged to provide them any light, and the dim glow off the side of the trail hardly does anything for two citybirds who aren't used to the dark.
Ames can sharpen their Perception, and that helps a little, but their ears are still ringing from that earlier attack and it's messing with their focus something fierce. The two of them are quiet, now paws stepping soft and gentle against the ruined underbrush. Neither of them are adept thieves or stealthy birds - Daisy is, in fact, aggressively loud at the best of times - but they're cautious and tired from tears and worry.
Daisy's tail is held low, her ears drooping, but there's a glint of determination