Humming to the tunes of a violin she her ears had once caught onto from a veteran, Ari waltzed from the sink to the dresser, from the dresser to the shelves holding so many of those useless mixed up pastes of flowers and leafs meant to make one glow and yet remain forgotten to ever get applied.
After a matter of 10 minutes of freshening up to the best and yet without a proper shower, she stood in front of her mirror, clipping on a few pins and clips to help with keeping her wild, wavy strands of silver in place. Patting on some dry powder of rose petals onto her cheekbones and gliding a finger smudged with vibrantly stained butter.
"Arrriiiiii, then you better not complain when you miss out on the bacon!"
Maria's voice called out to her once again.
