It was like willfully letting go of part of himself, and letting go when it was uncertain that the action would even do any good. Without the Long Memory he was weaponless-- but, as he had displayed himself, far from defenseless.

"This... Is bad, isn't it?"

He asked, an echo of Oz's own unspoken thoughts, while he watched the impossibly slender and impossibly looming man with a face that looked younger than he was get himself situated. Once that was settled, Oscar took point on the directions and started down the road.

"Or, maybe it's the way Sodder wants it to be? Who knows?"