The brush was getting thicker, branches yanking Dorian's robes, some even snaring his bandages, causing him to whimper at the contact. It didn't hurt so much as it scared him, worried of his bandages falling away and his pulpy, purple skin exposed. When the memory theatres had been playing, he'd shed most of his bandages in fear and rage - had shredded them apart as he tried to make the sound of his father's voice go away. Now any sight of his skin made his stomach turn.
The level landscape sloped off at some point, which tripped Dorian up even more. This time he collided with some bramble just as he saw Morana up ahead. Half in an attempt to call to her and half in an attempt to gain balance, Dorian toppled down the slope with a shriek. His left hand completely detached from the body and went flying through the air. It landed in the clearing as he came to a defeated stop at the end of the hill.
"Ohhhhhhh me...." The mummy mourned pitifully into the earth.