In most of Oswald's experience, people tended to stay in one shape. Even if they were faeries. He still managed to close his mouth before it was open for too long, and stop staring...Even if he didn't go back to glaring straight away.

"All of you elected to come up here, solely for flying, instead of fighting?" That still felt a bit inconceivable for him...Although he couldn't fly, which didn't give him much when it came to reference. Just experience in killing flying things.

"Why?" Subtlety, thy name is nowhere close to 'Oswald.'