Sea Lion Shores All that I took with me was a bad taste in my mouth

Set after his thread at Barrow Fields; midday bordering on evening.

Not having a reliable memory makes travel threads way easier for the narrator. Whether he found a meal or not, rested a while or not, spoke to someone or not, Yellowbelly was eventually on the move again.

Yes, the salty air did help him to some extent, giving his mind something familiar to latch on to, but it wasn't a strong hold. His minute-by-minute existence changed gradually, and rather than forgetting things within sixty seconds he did so in five minutes, ten, maxing out around an hour. It was probably great to have that time back. But he would still eventually lose it - which was how Yellowbelly came upon the edge of the world and didn't know how he had gotten there.

There were strange shapes on the beachfront proper, shifting or barking at one another, and Yellowbelly had the wits to hang back even though he was intensely curious at the same time.