🐰 [[[♠] ⅩℒⅠⅩ [♥]]] 🐰
Open palm traces the wall to the side of him all the way down the corridor, his steps even and normal paced as he goes though his eyes are still covered. Not as if it’d matter, since he wouldn’t be able to see even without the bandages anyway.
Brows knit together with concentrated uncertainty, and lips purse in discomfort when he runs out of wall, leaving him to stop and hesitantly grope and explore for some other surface to guide his steps, which tap ahead experimentally before each movement forward.
He’s simply hoping he’s not going to end up falling down a flight of stairs and end up back in the Medical Wing where he’s supposed to be with new injuries to get scolded about.
Again.