Inside the room, Niamh was happy for the chance to change. Her head was still all dizzy, but once she checked that she was truly alone, she rose and looked over the clothes Khero had given her.
There was a long skirt, a shirt, and a bodice that went over it all, all beautifully designed and crafted--and yet Niamh's nose wrinkled at it. She didn't do skirts. Usually. The only exceptions being when she wore one of her native syrmas--a type of skirt that all Solisi donned--but aside from that, she was a trousers gal. But it was dry, and her clothes were miserably wet, and so she sighed and peeled them off, shivering still.
She could bear it for now.
The clothes fit, more or less, though the bodice had to be laced up really tightly to work; Khero had a much bigger bust than her nigh non-existent one. She scowled at that, but was glad that the clothes were modest, at least, even if they did nothing to hide her shape like the baggy trousers and cloak did. Ergh.
She sat back down on the couch, grabbed a towel, and started to dry her hair better, the wet clothes draped over the arm of the couch since she wasn't quite sure where to put them.
----
Outside the room, Khero put her hands on her hips as she regarded Elaros with a cocked head.
"Yer not gonna fuck her, are ya?" she asked, blunt as ever.