"We both run, then." Sorry, Knives, if there are people who are hostile, he is absolutely not leaving you behind. Carrying is still an option if you object to that. But also... "It's not about you being old." Not technically. "It's about preserving your energy." He might not know all. But he knows enough to know that is a problem. Or will be, sooner rather than later. "What happens after that always ... looks miserable."

'Looks,' he says, as though he hasn't felt it through to his core, unwilling to turn away even though he knows what will follow. You are not alone, he has said so often, and he would not let them be alone, even then.

Anyway.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch enough of the image to be sure about all the details. It was as though the call had already been made and I caught the last of it as it was already fading." But probably Knives would be correct. Seeing Knives' hair... Vash can figure out a lot, too. His eyes squeeze but then open again, determined.

Then he blinks. Wait... what?

"Terrans?"