Scout's tried on the black armor the Ringmaster gave her, which fits snugly over her tail and even encases the claw-hooves on her feet. She's left off the faceplate and put actual clothes on over it too, and her expression is dubious as she balances on some of the shorter poles, testing the traction she gets. Her heavy tail sways and curls behind her, moving more fluidly than a month ago.

She's spent most of the past month rebuilding and reconfiguring her lightsaber, going to the moon only to look at the World Walkers' wares and to go out running in the snow. Now that she's done, Scout doesn't know quite what to do with herself.

With a clatter she hops from one pole to another and balances on one leg, looking thoughtful now. "That's different," she mutters.