Mercifully, Frore managed to put on the clothes Veitaru offered her fairly quickly and without interruption. Naturally, given her ignorance of Hylian customs, she spent the greater part of the minute in which she changed at least partially naked. Though she didn't seem to care who was watching, she still hurried the process along. A few moments later the shift was complete, and Frore stood almost fully clothed. As the Gerudo child had predicted, the clothes didn't quite fit. The burgundy wool shirt given to Frore left a little bit of her midriff exposed, and its sleeves didn't quite reach her elbows. What would have otherwise passed for trousers were shorts for her, resting on her kneecaps rather than ankles. Her slightly wet scarf managed to compliment the somewhat jumbled assortment of clothing well, deepening the impression of a poor, weather-beaten survivor. Veitaru, seeking to complete the image, cleverly reversed Frore's discarded cloak (its backside was a darker tone of brown and devoid of design) and tied it into half-dress over her linen legwear.

The spear, however, stood out from her like a lighthouse beacon in the storm. Its beautiful, deadly craft totally contradicted the look achieved by Frore's getup. Either she would have to leave it behind or find some way to carry it covertly. There was some sort of mechanism in the steel shaft that might be used to collapse it into a more hideable form, but even if Frore noticed it she wouldn't have been able to figure out how to activate it. Instead, Frore seemed fixated on her shadow. "Kuh...kan...kay...kuh...Cain?" She murmured, trying to make sense of her newfound voice as she used it. She tapped the butt of her spear into her shadow, but it didn't stir; her partner was not here. Plainly, Frore sought some sort of guidance.