[ Oz, of course, doesn't know how to fly. Horseback riding, dancing, falling through endless space and into semi-doom, he can do that. Blond-haired he might be and soft looking but the concept of angels, of being an angel would be a slap to the face and joke at once. ]

Ah- but we don't need to escape here, do we? Unless this is boring you to tears already [ a look back, a secretive, dramatic over-played spy look ] which I can understand. It's not the place where things are really happening after all!

[ So Oz just. walks. It's a bit mindless but it's faster than one usually wanders, with a spring to his step and a whistle to his voice. He's really exploring, peeking behind walls and pillars, eyeing trees. He's likely walking a pace infront of you, leading not because he decided to but because it's an habit. ]