"Larrikin did get together some of what he called vital supplies, when he was here," Anton said dryly, turning so that Erskine was at his back, and could properly reach all sides of his head. The last time someone had combed his hair ... well, it probably was Larrikin, actually. Before then, Sadh.

But it was soothing, in its own way. Made him think of home. Of when home wasn't a place, but the people. Like now. It wasn't often Anton felt cared-for, at least not in this explicit manner.

"I could always find them, if you wished to paint yourself polka-dotted or something equally ridiculous."