"Your hair looks like seaweed," Ami delivered bluntly, but perhaps not unkindly. "Limp and oily." After a moment to let that harsh verdict sink in, she continued, working her little legs to keep up with his pace. "You don't...reek or anything, Sensei, but we're supposed to treat all our clientele with respect, right? Because how we present ourselves reflects back on the village as a whole."

She paused, almost as though waiting for the hope that she was done to blossom since more.

"Also, you have have mud stains on the seat of your pants." Admittedly that was very hard for somebody who wasn't trained to pick out little details or raised in a textile shop to notice against the dark material. He had tried, from what she could see, to wash it out but likely hadn't had a steady supply of detergent readily available.