"No acrobatics, noted." He speaks from under the branch she's slowly pressing into his face, as she tries to peel or roll the larger set away. Eventually he bites down on the thin branch to spare his lips and cheek, dutifully wiggling his toes in his boots. It catches on the mask and levers against that instead, ungagging him.

Her efforts free his arm first, and he pulls it in to shield his face and push at the joint of branch and trunk. The way the last two fingers end at the knuckle, he still has most of the hand's strength; his other reaches into the foliage to pull on a point on the other side.

When they shift some of the weight from his chest, he breathes deep. "Chest hurts; blacked out for a second." He fixes one eye up through a hole in the damp leaves. "Did you see what happened?"