[Ivar couldn't have said why he'd decided to do this. He rarely examined why he did anything. He said what he wanted and did what he wanted at all times. Right now, this was what he wanted to do.]

Practicality. I'd like it longer-- hold this-- [And he hands her another section of feathered hair.] --but that's too much of a disadvantage on the battlefield. Someone can yank it back and slit your throat, or grab hold of it and smash your head forward.

[Ivar had actually let it grow ever-so-slightly longer since coming to the Quarantine, but it still didn't go past his neck. Just long enough to sweep back into his usual style.]