He always knew when Vash was nearby, and usually it could even wake him from a dead sleep, but it had been ... some time since he'd seen his brother. This however, was like and not like the sibling he had known, irregardless of the fact that Vash didn't call out like that, on a different level than voice.

It's a little and persistent tug. Foreign, though it would have pleased him long ago to think that finally, /finally/ his brother was reaching out to their own kind and not to humanity. But Knives himself remains quiet, the sense of his presence deliberately muted lest he pick up on one of his sisters nearby and old temptation return to extend his life, extend his power. He'd resisted this long, and intended to keep resisting.

But he stops, and remains where he is as the spot of scarlet instead of crimson draws closer, watching every move, every feeling, the voice--.

Vash. And yet .. not. Too young by far. It's as bizarre as his missing home and tree, something he glances back at briefly before focusing again on who is .. who might be, Vash.

One hand raises in a stilted echo of a wave; he'd never gotten used to most human gestures. "Yo."