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[Superdorf]

Oh. Oh weird. Our stomach is a pocket. That's bizarre.
Which is to say, I will keep this information well in mind, and bring it into play in spectacular fashion when everybody leasts expects it.

[March]

(I know exactly what to expect, I've seen that kind of stuff before)

[Superdorf]

We will see.
Onwards to Ter!

[March]

You and Makdt walk onwards to Ter; past scraps of what was once a wagon, and through the relatively peaceful forest.
You exit out of the forest around the afternoon, past the fields with farm hands working away, and on into Ter which is quite a bit less busy today as it was on your last visit, "I'm going to go find a tailor." Makdt tells you and runs off leaving you with her bird-self.

[Superdorf]

We need a way to keep ourselves occupied... let's learn to juggle!
With our hands at around waist level, toss our pebble from hand to hand, from waist-level to a little over eye-level back to waist-level again. Try to aim our throws such that we don't have to move our hands to catch the pebble.

[March]

You begin juggling the pebble; you toss the pebble from your left into the air and it bounces off your arm, you pick up the pebble and try again... you finally catch the pebble after six attempts, you then toss the pebble into the air aiming at your other hand, similarly it bounces off and you pick it up and toss it into your other hand on the second try... you then switch back to tossing it back into the first hand and this takes seven additional attempts.
You think you've figured something out about juggling by this point, trying to hit the small target of your hand is hard.

(Using homebrew targeting rules; roll d20 twice, first is to hit ac second is to hit a body part with split ac based on handedness. Hands happen to have an ac of 2 and 19 in humans.)

[Superdorf]

Whee, this is fun!
Continue tossing the pebble from hand to hand until we can reliably do so 30 times without dropping it, or until we need to react to something else, like Makdt's return.
(Oh. Wait. This is about to get really really tedious. Maybe... maybe I should quit while I'm ahead...  )

[March]

You attempt to juggle the lone pebble for around an hour, although you are having some good luck catching it reliably in your right hand your left hand is hopeless.
"Ok, I found a tailor." bird-Makdt interrupts your effort or direct you over to a wood shingled small building at the far end of Ter down a side street. There are drunkards crowded around in the street & the sound of a street brawl outside a nearby two story building with a sign of a tavern.
The writing on the tailor's door says 'Oogloom Outfitters' in big bold script.

[Superdorf]

Enter therein.

[March]

You enter the shop; a halfling woman welcomes you, "Get in here, have a look around, everything's for sale for fair measures."

There is a wide variety of premade simple clothes, leathers, & even mail racked up in here... curtained off changing stalls, grey tile floor, a wooden counter where the halfling is- standing on a stepping stool, and a- bolderesque humanoid pig is standing in the back picking its snout but watching you warrily.
Bird-Makdt, "I decided to try something on, but feel free to pick out something you like."

[Superdorf]

Find something that looks cheap, sturdy and well-fitting, and head over to the counter. "I would like to try these on. Would you kindly di-rect me to a vacant chan-ging stall?"

[March]

You look through the clothing; you feel though the materials and tug at the bits and like some sort of odd reaction you have chosen without thinking; light brown shirt with red stitching and lacing, woolen pair of navy breeches with light grey pleats that puff out the thigh, a pair flat of matte dark leather knee boots, and a leather hooded cloak with attached light blue split wool cape.
"I would like to try these on. Would you kindly di-rect me to a vacant chan-ging stall?" asking the halfling at the counter who hops down off her stool and walks under the counter and more or less pushes you into an empty stall and encloses you in with the curtain.

[Superdorf]

"Ah! Thank you!"
Let's see... make sure that witch-bird isn't watching, and shoo it away if it is. Then check to see if everything fits, and if it does, step back out into the main room and wait for Makdt to finish.

[March]

"Ah! Thank you!", You shoo bird-Makdt away. "Not like I haven't seent it already!" she says as you gently toss her out of the stall. You then set to work removing the blood and dirt encrusted clothing from your- tattooed skin, and saving your belt and the backpack, try the new clothes on for fit... besides the usual looseness of premade clothes they are actually not a bod fit at all.
You walk out of the stall carrying your old clothes and see Makdt counting out metallic sticks from a pouch, "Well I guess you can call that a style." says the bird-Makdt.

[Superdorf]

Ohh, those stick-things are money... somehow that never occurred to me among the orkbarken.
Smile. "I am glad, to wear a sty-le. Do living folk often wear such sty-les?"
Do we have pockets?