(OOC: The orange is readable, but so was the green you picked earlier. The orange stands out better, though.)

Kengetar tried to feign appreciation, but it turned out as a stare and a grunt that made him seem bored instead. In an economical fashion, he dried himself off with the blanket before picking out his new clothes. He picked a new loincloth, a pair of buckskin leggings, a pair of soft leather turn-shoes, and a tunic made of woven fiber. The tunic was white, with an abstract pattern of red thread embroidered around its hem, cuffs, and its deeply v-cut collar. Kengetar had known the people whose clothes he was wearing. And while he had once envied them for their fine clothes, he hadn't wanted them like this. Not like this. 

Kengetar went over to sit cross-legged in front of the platter, grabbing hocks of meat and sweet fruit with his bare hands and stuffed them unceremoniously into his mouth. As he ate he looked up dumbly at Melody, apparently sated. The woman apparently thought that he was childlike and unintelligent. Well, he would allow her to think that for a while longer. He would let her mother him, so he could regain his strength, and have her explain everything to him slowly and clearly, so he would understand everything about her plans.