Neville stopped at the touch. He knew it wasn't the one he'd wanted. It wasn't Bole. He wouldn't be that gentle. He looked at the hand before seeing the person connected to it. Delicate, soft, feminine. A far contrast to what he expected, what he wanted. He looked up and saw Lavender looking at him, panicked. He could tell she was talking but couldn't hear her; he felt her pulling at his arm but couldn't seem to make himself move for a long while.
When he finally did stand he didn't do much other than stare at her. Deep down he could feel that he should be protecting her and himself, getting both of them out of the forest and out of harm's way, but at the moment he didn't want to listen to that voice. He wanted to run farther, deeper into the forest until he found the horrible creature that destroyed something so close to him.