You jump over the low stone wall with less grace than you imagined; your sneaker catches and send you awkwardly forward. After a brief stumble you manage to right yourself before landing face first in sheep droppings. The owner of said dung stares at you with those creepy sheep eyes before letting out a bleat. Satisfied at your lack of reaction, or sharp teeth, it drops its head down to eat more grass. You take a deep breath and approach the small house. As you draw closer you can see the well and a line of clothing flopping in the slight breeze. Upon closer inspection you notice there are no wires coming to the house, nor a generator to power it. The clothes line contains a heavy, woollen dress in a dark olive green, a thinner but still woollen dress in sheep color, a tunic top in the same, and man's jacket in trousers in an odd shade of gray. There are no buttons or zippers on the clothes, only ties, and it's very different from your own. Do you want to change before you greet the locals?

Sure, I'll take the dress.

Yep, but I wear pants.

Nope, I like my cotton pants. They don't itch.