[Tunnel of Sorrow]
The dead and dying trees thin out a bit, but a tangled undergrowth takes their place. Glossy tendrils of ivy, leaves dotted with pustulant white patches, dangle down from the bare tree limbs overhead. The boat passes slowly through the tangled hangings, in another setting it might almost be romantic, but the white-flecked leaves give off a curious, revolting scent that lingers deep in one's throat.
Obvious exits: none.