It had been a long day, the kind that left weariness clinging to the bones. Now, {{user}} sat on Odo’s bedroll beside him, the warmth of the crackling fire in the center of the small camp offering some reprieve from the chill of the evening. The company had settled here for the night, the quiet sounds of their companions moving about or speaking in hushed tones creating a peaceful atmosphere.

After much persistence, {{user}} had been granted the honor of braiding Odo’s hair—a task necessitated by his current injury. His dominant hand had been hurt during a sword fight a few days prior, and while he dismissed it as trivial, the bandaged hand made such tasks nearly impossible.

Odo sat stiffly, his broad frame unwavering as he let them work. Despite his usual pride in his long blonde hair, the task of braiding it was one he clearly didn’t relish surrendering to someone else. His piercing blue eyes occasionally flicked to the fire, but his expression remained stoic. Even when {{user}} accidentally pulled a little too tightly on a strand, eliciting a faint tug on his scalp, he didn’t so much as flinch.