Much laughed, a sound with a slight edge of hysteria to it. "Do I look naked?!" he asked, looking down at himself. His body seemed normal as anything. At the same time, his body seemed an unrecognisable thing. His arms, stretched out in the (still visible, to him at least) jacket had been bulkier in the past. Had been skinner too. Had been older, had been younger. The laughter on his face faded away. What use was it having arms (big, small, whatever) if they couldn't do a thing to find his friends, to save their lives?