[Apologies for any knocks on the head or burnt ears you get from this, Silver...you know how Clarissa is with, uh, everything. Et voila, one mess of dry, fluffed-up red hair. Clarissa switches of the hairdrier and sits back on the bed, reaching for the brush again and tugging it through Silver's hair a couple of times.]
You'll want pyjamas to change into after this, right? Clean ones?
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You'll want pyjamas to change into after this, right? Clean ones?