Damita grinned, watching Tala’s face as it lit up – it would be lovely on her, a fine piece of work. It was new, Damita having never worn it in the two years that she’d had it, always making excuses why she didn’t care to where something so bright; in all honesty, she just didn’t like how tight it fit around her hips, how it snuggled close to her skin.<br/><br/>Handing the dress off to Tala, Damita nodded at her question, “Yes, it’s a gift to you.” Digging around in her suitcase, Damita produced a comb and set to untangling her still wet hair. She held onto those locks with one hand, brushing with the other, making faces as she encountered a snarl.<br/>