Quatre had fielded a good half dozen questions already since they'd come to a stop, unable to fend anyone off long enough to get any sort of rest. The staring was nothing for him, having gotten used to that years ago, though the temptation to snap at someone was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground next to Trowa, he gave the brunet a quick look when the question was asked and without having to think about it, grabbed his arm when the fan finally gave in to whatever odd query he had.

"Do you really just brush your hair like that?"