But sun will hit your cloak, no? Vai thought to himself, though he nodded to Hadrian's decision. The way the sunlight would slowly bleach the cloak, itself, would be a bother to his own self—if he wanted something a certain color, especially a dark one, he'd take care in not letting it be sitting outside too much, but it seemed his customer wasn't extremely preoccupied with fashion. "Does you feel cool all the times, then?" he asked, cautiously curious. "Cold?"
His expression perked up, however, at Hadrian's latest question, clapping his hands together. "Oh! I would love to shows you—but takes long times," he started out rather excited, but quickly trailed into sheepishness. He reached next to him to pull out a long roll of tied, dried leaves, then a vaguely rectangular mallet, showing the items to Hadrian. "We weave with this leaf, but for our big cloths, we take barks from the tree, soak in the sea, and hit them with the ike. Want to touch?"