Oh. Well. It's a good thing it won't come to that.

Water seemed to bother Azula. That wasn't something Nima thought she should pry about.

To distract herself, she thought of her own hair rituals - brushing the knots out after a long day's journey, kneeling in a circle with her sisters as a child, each girl tending the hair of the little nun in front of her, peaceful and warm in her saffron robes in the early fall sunlight.

You could always wash with a dry treatment, she put in. As they do in the desert, when water isn't easy to spare. Grain-starch, and a brush work well. My business is in caring for livestock, you know - I could probably help you find some on a shore leave.