One by one, he watched the others get changed.  His own change, and exploration of it seemed to be pretty downplayed; but then again, that suited him, that fitted him.  His new clothing made him reminiscent of some sort of historical samurai of high birth. The hakama on him were baggy, but well-fitted;  the shirt, likewise, fit him well. He had black tabi socks on his sandal-covered feet.  There was a sedge hat on his head, which did a lot to obscure him, and his now bald head; especially in  combination with the cloth cloak, the Horo, he now wore.<br/><br/>Furthermore, at his left side, he now had two swords in sheathes, kept tied to his body by a belt made of leather. One of them, the wakizashi, was distinctly shorter than the other one.  He drew out the wakizashi, to look over the silvered blade, and  threw it spinning up into the air. He caught it easily enough, and slid it back into its sheathe.<br/><br/>The Horo was just long enough to just barely touch the ground behind him. As he walked towards Mateia, seeing that she seemed to have put a strain on herself, one might note that the way the cloak trails along the ground, it might just obscure his tracks. "Are you alright? Where are we?"