Stacia picks her own brush off of the floor and leans against the door frame, being slightly more polite when she's holding a conversation in Homid rather than demanding affection in Lupus. She flashes Leia a grin.

"I like to think so, yeah," she says. "Mind if I ask for hair care tips? I'm one grumpy mood away from lopping mine off entirely; and that's not even getting into how it's shedding season."