He feels the braid secured, and when Inigo joins him again by the chair, Roland can't help but itch to see how it turned out. It's a slow budding excitement that bubbles up from the pit of his stomach, even as both of them begin to speak. Not that Roland wasn't listening, but while his eyes land on one teen, then the other, following the conversation on finding the next hobby the three of them could indulge in for fun's sake, his fingers are already moving on their own accord.

It's not vanity, he argues. He just likes knowing how he looks at all times, and this was mixed with a tinge of fondness that makes it more compelling to carefully, subtly, reach behind him. Touches the pads of his fingertips against the smooth grooves and swirls of the braid, and it feels so much more complicated than the fishtail he expected.

Eventually, when Inigo finishes speaking, Roland finds that he can't ignore the feeling any longer. Pausing for a moment, a quick shift in subject just to put this one to rest - that's all he was doing really! - he clears his throat and turns to either of them in quick succession. The pause that follows this sound may have sounded awkward...because he realizes too late what he's about to ask. Gah. He's this far in!

"Say, uh. You wouldn't happen to have a mirror in your kit with the comb, would you?"