[By the time Shiro is calmer, reaching out to touch him, Matt is more than ready to welcome the hands on the clinging wet fabric, savoring every brush of warm fingers. His hooves sink into the spongy mats on the floor, tail flicking in contentment as he leans in and nuzzles his nose to Shiro's, ears flicking velvety-soft back and forth.]

Good. You're extra-clean now. I didn't braid your tail, even though I wanted to. [He pauses, shifting forward and back for a moment, then slowly forward, so he's pressed warm and soggy against Shiro, the curved length of his body tangible under the clinging fabric.] I think it would've been a very fetching look.