They are prepared as best as they possibly can be, layers and layers 'borrowed' from a half-finished blacksmith shop, some project left unfinished for one reason or the other. Perhaps it's a touch overkill, their small form made awkward by layers upon layers, but if it keeps them from exploding, it will be worth it.
Honestly, the only reason Osozo is here is because they know it is necessary. They know the Voice requires it, and if their part can be constrained to this, a simple exploration, then all the better for them. There may be an endless curiosity within them, but there is also a very healthy self-preservation instinct, one that has been screaming and ignored since they arrived.
"It's... strange here. I think..." Osozo pauses, trying to make sense of the bright patches of colour their vision is currently swimming in, trying to run diagnostics, trying to figure out if this is anything. "I think something might be wrong with my vision though."
OSOZO
The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing
