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There were some truly terrible times to realise things - when a great feeling is suddenly overcast by the all consuming dread of a second truth.
So it was that morning where Beau found herself privy to such a magnificent sight such as it was.
There she bore witness to a bare muscle bound goddess wrestling a great foe bare handed.
Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration - maybe in fact it was just Yasha with no top on, wrapped for selfish modesty. Knelt with loose fitting pants and her holster a thick hide sack strapped on it for her spoils.
And oh, what spoils - for only mightiest trophies from the finest foe did this towering woman of muscle face, from none other than…
A sheep.
Maybe she was starting to go a little cooped up and mad in this place but insanity had Yasha in it, so it probably can’t be all bad.
True to her illusions though, Yasha remained, sweat glistening in the sun as she worked over the nearest sheep in her pen, a hefty pair of shears working away with a needle-like precision any would probably find amiss if all they experienced was a raging plate of sharpened steel coming at them.
“Can I help, Beau?” A voice from the pen broke her out of her daydreaming - shit, she’d blanked out, had she been staring at her like a piece of meat?
“Uhhh… no?” Was about all she managed to scrounge up in response, face flushing.
There was a chuff from the pen, before the sheep she was shearing was plopped back onto its four legs and she stood up straight, fully regarding the peeping Beau, “if your looking to join in and help, I can grab you a pair - though I’m guessing you’ve never done it before?”
“Oh- Nono, i don’t want to impose on your talents.” She hastily affirmed, a hand reaching up to scratch nervously at her undercut-
which wasn’t there anymore.
Yasha watched curiously as Beau seemed to freeze on the spot, “Beau?”
“huh. I guess I’ve been here a while I forgot about the fact my hair would grow in again without a shave.” She noted absently, shifting her hand to feel the shoulder length of hair now.
“Do you want me to cut it?” Came Yasha’s voice, the woman already walking back towards her, wool shoved haphazardly into her satchel.
“Er- I mean, sure?” She replied, before her gaze shot back to the shears, “wait, you’re not gonna use those are you?”
Yasha paused, “course not - I’m gonna use my sword.” She revealed casually.
“Wawait!-“
Yasha chuckled as Beau backpedal rapidly away from her, wiping her head and moving her own hair from her eyes, she set the shears away in her pocket.
“I’m joking - I’ve got a set of for trimming. C’mon.”
Guiding the shorter woman back into her home, Yasha set the satchel and up for the moment on a hook, gesturing to one of the chairs she used for working, “here, we’ll get it out the way, have a seat.”
Beau did as asked, waiting as Yasha disappeared upstairs. A she was left alone, like the need to scratch an itch, she was suddenly much more aware of the change in her hair - the feeling of wrongness; too long - far too long.
Happily, it wasn’t long before Yasha returned, still shirtless, but with hands clean with a fresh pair of shears in one and a drape in the other, “hair bits - not that it ever seems to stop them.” She noted with the drape, walking behind her.
She could feel the heat still radiating off of Yasha as she wrapped the drape around her neck and gently straightened out her hair, silently thanking circumstance that Yasha would be working from behind her and not leaving her to the mercy of her self control, Beau tried to relax as the larger woman set about her work.
“I’m just gonna go off of what I remember it looking like when we first met, that alright?” She asked, earning a nod before beginning.
“So… you do this for every person you take in?” Beau broke the silence while Yasha busied herself gauging the lengths she’d seen Beau’s hair while it was tied up; aiming longer for the moment - she could improve it later.
“Mhm? No, I usually just keep it to the sheep I know - not in the business for shaving the lost and newly found ones.” She remarked. There was a time, of course, but that wasn’t for Beau’s need to know.
“Hm, well happy to help you branch out. You aren’t gonna try to do an undercut, right? If you’ve something like a flat thin blade for shaving, I can-“
“-I said I’d do it to what I remember you having. That means all of it.” Yasha reiterated, blowing away the loose hair and chuckling gently at Beau’s shiver.
There were many words Beau knew for how to describe the feeling of having a burly half dressed woman, expectantly-gently shaving the sides of your head with one end of a pair of shears - that she’d incidentally decided to snap in half to prove her point. She wasn’t going to name any of them, and certainly not aloud or to said radiant woman - but she had several things to add to her journal tonight at least.
All in all, Yasha was a damn good barber.
“So Yasha, when do you want me to return the favour?” Beau asked. The night had come in later in the day since her impromptu hair appointment - that other familiar itch from a half ton of hair particles that had wormed their way onto her skin despite all the best efforts.
“Mhm? Oh don’t worry - i don’t, I just let mine grow out. Usually it gets shortened when someone tries to kill me, so I stopped worrying.” She answered in between their meal prep.
“Oh. Okay - cool.”
“Never really bother shaving either - don’t see the point; it just regrows faster anyway!” Yasha added, exasperated.
And all of a sudden Beau really needed another moment alone…