The sensation of her Auntie’s tousling lips was surprisingly pleasant, and the girl unleashes a dreamy sigh. Occasionally, the make shift comb snags, but, as Aelfwine had assumed, Arah had already taught young Maude the importance of being pretty. While the filly certainly hadn’t figured out how to comb her own mane, her mother was happy to keep her growing tufts tangle-free and luxurious as cotton fluff could be. The ginger darling, of course, had also practiced plenty on her mother’s voluminous, shining locks, and, while she had at first tangled them up, she was now capable of untangling at least the very ends of Arah’s extensive hair. It got more and more difficult to brush the higher up such a grand tail one went, the girl had discovered while practicing, the ends of such long hair almost effortlessly twisting themselves together no sooner than you brushed the knots out.

So, in that matter, Maude was glad she was still little, and her mane had not yet grown in. At the same time, however, she also wished it was, because she would be that much more likely to impress whatever Princes or young Lords awaited her at the Basin. Surely, her mother’s beauty had been a pivotal reason why her father had fallen in love, right? Sure, Arah was also gentle, tactful, and smart, but she was definitely the prettiest doe in the World’s Edge, and probably the rest of the world beyond it, and that had to count for something.

A giggle slips from her lips as her Auntie proclaims that she’ll be simply marvelous: a grand collection of words to describe a Maude! She was certainly not elegant or beautiful like a true lady yet, but she was sure that she’d be a sparkling gem among the other fillies. Soon, she's humming softly while her aunt works, her mind wandering into imagined scenarios sure to play out in the mountains this evening. On gracefully dancing legs, she twirls and prances, the eyes of dozens watching her with sparkling awe, as the heavens begin to swirl and dance with vibrant, sparkly rainbows (as she imagined the Auroras to look from the descriptions she had been given).

"Okay," somewhat drolly remarks the gradually-becoming-bored filly, when she's told her hair is almost finished, her daydreams having dwindled into less common and elaborate glimpses as the time passed; it's followed, however, by a much more brightly worded inquiry, "I'll do yours next?"

Growing more anxious for it to be over with the more the excitement about having her hair done in the first place wears away, Maude takes to occasionally glancing over at the pile of flowers. It's the only motion she lets her boredom get away with, however, pressing her mind to invent unique ways she could use the remaining flowers and trinkets in her Auntie's hair.