All the more soothed by the management of her hair being woven it into a temporary braid, Nel lets a soft yawn slip. Squeezing her arms in the hug in thanks for the taming of her hair so that she can move freely without considering how her hair might catch, she untwists to sit sideways with one arm left at her mother’s side.

“I’ve said it a bunch… But I haven’t put it down anywhere,” she answers. Maybe if she can use it and it does nothing, it will finally be discarded.