[Byleth let out a wordless grunt, giving a few rough jerks of his knife before he finally cut through the locks of hair he'd been clutching. The strands came away, hanging from his loosely clenched fist, and he inspected the edge of his blade. It had actually dulled just from that.]
...it's not my blade, it's my hair. It's very... resistant to cutting.
[It's why he wasn't using scissors. They worked for a little bit, but inevitably they dulled and then pulled rather than cut. Byleth sighed and carefully leaned down to deposit the hair into a bowl he'd repurposed for this.]
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...it's not my blade, it's my hair. It's very... resistant to cutting.
[It's why he wasn't using scissors. They worked for a little bit, but inevitably they dulled and then pulled rather than cut. Byleth sighed and carefully leaned down to deposit the hair into a bowl he'd repurposed for this.]