Greta hums in acknowledgment, still finger-combing Iman's hair in an assessing fashion - it's a bit shorter than the average back home, but not to the point of being difficult, she doesn't think - when Iman suddenly yelps, and she freezes in astonishment. She hadn't even hit a snarl. But Iman explains a moment later, and she arches an eyebrow at Aqil in surprise.

"Is he?" Angus lifts his head from the sand and peers at the crow perched on his side. "I'll pay attention to him." He rolls onto his back, forcing Aqil to either take flight or be dumped into the sand, and lightly bats a massive forepaw in his general direction.

The two animals are so mismatched in size that Greta can't help but wonder if that's really a good idea, but they also seem to be sturdy enough, so she huffs out a quiet laugh and leaves them to it, returning her focus to Iman's hair and finally starting to braid. Her fingers are a little clumsy at the outset - it really has been a while - but her hands soon remember the work, and she settles into a familiar rhythm.

It is relaxing - surprisingly so - to just sit here by the water and braid Iman's hair. After a few minutes, and without any trace of self-awareness, she ends up humming softly to herself as she works.