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Her blanket was also covered in blood and Dorothy reached for it quickly, hoping to find a clean spot that she could use to wipe the blood from her eyes before waking the Scarecrow up. Rolling the blanket over, she screamed and pushed it away, waking the Scarecrow.

Her "blanket" was no blanket at all. The Jitterbug from Munchkinland had shed Glinda's skin, dropping the bloody mess onto Dorothy while she slept. The Scarecrow backed away from her, his eyes widening in shock at the site of Dorothy covered in blood.  As she sat in shock, staring at the blood coating her, the Scarecrow stood up, snatching the skin from her and holding it up to the sun, a look of admiration briefly on his face before he cast it aside, helping Dorothy to stand. Tearing a sleeve from his shirt, the Scarecrow began to wipe some of the blood from Dorothy's face and arms, hugging her as she wept quietly.

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When Dorothy finally calmed herself down, they stood up and flicked some of the now dried blood off of her dress, and began walking once more down the ruined Yellow Brick Road. They continued through the orchard, passing the time by kicking rotten apples down the path, keeping their eyes mainly on the ground. The grimy yellow ground was more still more cheerful than the ominous clouds above them, reminding them of their happy days singing and dancing through the forest.

In no time at all, they could see the start of the wild part of the forest up ahead, the silhouette of a man standing on the path, an ax in his hand.  A large smile lit up Dorothy's blood covered face as she started running, pulling the Scarecrow behind her.  The Scarecrow looked up from the apples that he had been kicking along the path and started struggling, trying to pull away from Dorothy. She just pulled him harder. "Come on Scarecrow!  It's the Tinman!" She let go of him once they reached the Tinman, wrapping her arms around his rusted and dented body.

"I've missed you so much!" She let go of him and took a step back, seeing what this twisted Oz had done to him over the years. All of the things she had seen so far, even the Scarecrow's transformation, could not prepare her for what she saw, as she had imagined seeing the Tinman as he was six years ago.

Now he stood before her, dented and rusty, his cone shaped hat bent at a wrong angle. His eyes no longer sparkled in the sun, dulled by rust and grime, and a golden plate was nailed over his mouth, keeping him from speaking. A thick iron handle had been welded to his torso, close to what would have been his collarbone had he been human, along with an iron plate. Overall, it looked as if someone had created a door on the Tinman's body.  

This little door was crusted with blood and now and again a few fresh drops of blood would spill out across his chest. His left foot was almost severed, held on only by a thin sheet of metal on the right side of his ankle, giving a sort of lopsided appearance. His trusty ax, once so bright and sharp, was dull, the blade coated in dried blood, the handle melted to his hand.

Dorothy's jaw dropped and she stammered, "C-come with us Tinman.  The W-wizard of O-oz can help you." The Tinman didn't move, he just stared at her blankly. Scarecrow began pulling on Dorothy's arm, gesturing urgently, trying to make her walk around the Tinman and keep going. "I'm not leaving him here! Stop pulling me!" The Scarecrow kept pulling and the Tinman raised his ax, the dull blade looking sharper now than it had a moment before, his eyes bright once more as his ax swung quickly towards Dorothy's head.