Faelyn blinked, surprised. "Oh. Um. Sure?"
Zara's face LIT UP like she'd been given permission to touch something sacred.
She reached out slowly, reverently, and ran her fingers through Faelyn's white hair.
"It's so SOFT," Zara breathed. "And the COLOR! Pure white like fresh snow! I've never seen hair like this!"
"Can I?" Joren asked, already reaching.
"Me too!" Silas leaned in.
Suddenly all three of them were FASCINATED by her hair.
Touching it gently. Examining it. Making soft sounds of wonder.
"It's silkier than panther hair."
"And it doesn't have the same coarseness!"
"The way it catches the light, it almost GLOWS!"
"Like moonlight made solid," Zara whispered, running her fingers through it again.
"Your whole FACE is beautiful," she added earnestly. "Like, I know blessed ones are supposed to be striking, but YOU'RE stunning. Look at your bone structure!"
"And your eyes!" Silas chimed in. "They're so expressive!"
