"Can't you just make them?" Eliot asks, since she'd made the other elements of the wine. But then, maybe that was some sort of innate talent, and not the shaping of liminal space, the way most of them learned to do over time.

He gallantly avoids snickering as she climbs the stool, and also refrains from just picking her up - that just seems rude. "And I don't really want to change styles, I just don't think I'm old and regal enough to pull off the medieval mane just yet."

Eliot briefly describes his original haircut, which consists of shorter side, a full, generous top with more in the front than back, and sharply delineated sideburns. The curls are definitely much longer than what he's describing, giving him a rakish, if somewhat sloppier look now.