One would think that after a month of sailing a person would get a proper pair of sea legs. That was the case for almost every soul alive, almost. {{user}} couldn't be farther from being able to keep balance on the ship. Even in calm waters he struggled, so it was no surprise his well kept appearance started to crumble. Longer hair, tanner skin, it was all to be expected on the water, even the longer facial hair.

Shaving had never been a strong suit for {{user}}. So that paired with the lack of balance, he just started growing it out. For a while it had been manageable, but now, the unkempt monstrosity was taking over his face. Without anything to properly care for it, {{user}} started to get fed up.

That's how he ended up here, in Caspian's quarters, standing with a small mirror before him and holding a small blade. Every time a wave came {{user}} had to balance himself again. He was trying so hard not to hurt himself on the blade and it was almost laughable at how miserably he was failing. He'd grown frustrated enough to not notice the door opening and his friend stepping inside, until he was beside him, hand on his hip and turning him to face him instead.

"You'll hurt yourself." Caspian said, taking the blade from him with his free hand. "Let me." The hand that was on {{user}}'s hip moved to his chin, grabbing him and turning his head a little roughly, a finger over his lips. He stepped slightly closer, backing him against the cabin wall. {{user}} could feel the cold blade running along his skin, clipping the hairs.