Help? Who gets help doing their hair? That's always been something Ezra's done for himself, not counting when he was really young. What, does Qui-Gon think he can't manage to tie a simple knot?

"No, I can do it," he says, already running his fingers through his hair to comb it back. All except the little tuft that he has bound behind one ear. (And really, that should count as evidence that he can manage a ponytail, right?) Then it's just a matter of setting the extra hair tie down before wrapping the little strip of leather around the bundle he's made from his hair and...

...and frowning as some of it promptly slips out before he can knot it.

And fumbling the knot because he can't see what he's doing and he's never tied a knot behind his own head.

And grunting in frustration when he can feel that the ponytail is in entirely the wrong spot, the weight hanging lopsided to one side. And that frustration itself is causing problems, too, the emotions frizzing his hair like he just passed way too close to an electric current. "Kriff," he curses as the knot slips again. "Qui-Gon-"

He stops, because dammit, this wasn't supposed to be so hard that he has to ask for help.