Haircut
The scissors snipped merrily, sharp blades catching sunlight and glinting like small fish darting through the reeds. Touya's hands worked them deftly, weaving in and out with surgical precision. It had been far too long, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed this. He could already imagine the wind whispering over his neck.
He leaned back and sighed, grateful for the sunlight. Funny. He'd always assumed that his false-form would start resembling him - he'd never dreamed it would be the other way around.
The scissors flashed, and another long strand fluttered softly to the ground.