His clothes were still of the same muted fabric as before, but now they actually hung properly - a vest, belted with a sash; a pair of loose pants; a bag of some sort slung over his shoulder, the game dangling over it. Sinew visibly held it together, but the lines were straight and the lacing tight - decently crafted given the materials used. He still wore no shoes, but he seemed largely unconcerned by the fact. In his free hand, he held a thin javelin at his side. Its blade was finely honed and flat stone.
Orha likewise took measure of the man. "Hello," he replied, repeating the new word with more than just a hint of an accent. He guessed at its meaning. "Gerald Terrant."