"Oh, come on, it's just hair, relax."

Torchbearer says with a grin as he sits you down on wooden boxes, with your back to him.

What a stupid tradition these savages have, it made you shudder with hatred for the Banditos. Cut hair at the root. What else will they come up with? Eat spruce branches? No thanks.

You try to find at least one reason why Nico chose you to be the spy in the camp of these unkempt idiots. By the way, the last description fits them perfectly. This curly-haired dunce doesn't even seem to have a clue about your purpose here. Pretending to be a poor little lamb turned out to be quite easy.

You feel the Torchbearer's fingers in your hair and his anticipation, or impatience even.

"You ready?"