Andrew thought he did wonderfully in hiding his discomfort as they rode into the town. He did manage a smile, though, as they entered the place and he followed Night and Joey to a post, where he slid from Tide's back and simply pointed to the ground. She knew what it meant and wouldn't leave unless he was with her. Nodding at Joey, he pushed the sleeves up and accepted the money. "Okay... T-thanks, I... I won't be long." He watched Joey go, and stood there for a moment before shoving the money he'd been given into his pants' pocket, crossing the dirt road to the tailor. He needed clothes first and foremost, and a bit more than a single set. The tailor in the small shop had premade clothing on shelves and hanging about, but requested Andrew be measured until he stuttered out that he didn't want to make a fuss and he preferred things that were a bit too large. When asked what happened to his clothes, Andrew mentioned that they'd been in a fire as casually as he could, and that he'd only had the pants left. The jacket seemed to be recognized, however, and Andrew didn't doubt that. He simply said that Joey was a friend he was traveling with for now, which seemed to be accepted.

He bought a series of cream-colored clothing, five shirts and five pairs of pants, and several underthings, including some very thick longjohns that he was told would keep him warm in the evenings, which sounded pleasant enough. When he paid, the number didn't look quite right for everything he'd bought, including a large bag to store everything and the extra set of clothes and shoes he was wearing now. But the tailor just smiled, nudging him out the door and telling him to say hello to Joey when they got together next. With the bag over his shoulder, off his injuries, Andrew felt a bit flush. What did they think of him traveling with Joey? He looked like a loner, the man, and here he was, mentioning him without warning. Did these people know him enough to understand that he was a loner type? Or did they have wrong thoughts about what Andrew was to Joey? He decided not to think about it as he entered the general store with the intention to get some of his own gear so he didn't have to rely solely on Joey. A knife, a bedroll and blanket, a canteen for water. A bag of dried fruit. A brush that worked better for his hair than the flimsy comb.

He found his way back to the black and white horses, and set his bag between his feet to wait for Joey and stroke White Tide calmingly. He was a patient young man, he could wait even if Joey ran over the hour he'd given them.