Admiring the way her hair follows her in a train over her shoulder, Nel pauses when her mother suggests a change. The girl looks over at her mother, then to the grass in quiet consideration for all of a few seconds before boldly stepping out barefoot onto the lawn. Her hair stretches and thins at the edge of the wading pool as she takes a few steps before seeming to tear with a soft splash of attracted water falling back into the pool. That which remains with her retracts upwards to about her knees where it circulates into itself to bring a round swirl of waves at the bottom.

Nel tilts forward when her hair gives, but not enough to be thrown off balance. Stopping once her hair is hanging more heavily, she pats a hand to the top of her head and shrugs, “I guess it sticks around.”