He felt that rhythm as if it were his own; he heard the words that Oz wasn't saying-- at least, the gist anyway. Although their association had only been a few months at most, Oscar knew the towering wizard in ways that not even Qrow nor Ironwood could imagine.

Under the dim lamplights and the last dregs of sunlight, their shadows stretched out on the asphalt before them as if longer than the roads they tread upon. But, perhaps, not near as long as an immortal's memory.

"I know that you can't let your guard down here," Oscar answered quietly, trying and failing to keep his unease from his voice. "Things change all the time. The mothmen, these little guys... they're new.

"This is all part of a lonely girl's dream, and we don't know when she'll wake up."