Vash was being careful with the work they were doing, but his attention was about half on Wolfwood, as well. He could see the waves of discomfort coming in and being fought off, until he could take a proper look at the man in the grave. Whom Vash did look at, carefully, and sadly. The clean clothes and the respectful way he was laid out made perfect sense to him, but also the eyes that had seen far, far too much death for a vely long time could see how hard things had been on the man in the last span of time before his final rest. The bruises and fractures were not on his face, on the hands that could be seen, but the memory of them still was, even with the traces of decay.

When Wolfwood stumbled away, he let him be for a brief span of time... enough to return sand enough to cover the body. After making sure that neither of them had disturbed the way it had been laid out.

Then he got up, shedding his coat, and stepped towards the man on his knees, wrapping the familiar brightness around his shoulders.

"Come on, come with me just a few steps away, all right?"

Quietly, his arms wrapped around the broad shoulders, more guiding and supporting than pushing or pulling. Sitting there with all of that was just going to make things worse.

His hold tightened just a little.

"You did what you thought you had to do. We can't know how things will work out in the future, but you did what you thought you needed to do, for both of you. And we can't take back what's already happened. But we're still here. So we can try again to make things better today. And tomorrow."

He meant the words, absolutely, but he also was rather certain that very little of it was going to be even heard. They, or rather his voice, was to serve as an anchor, a reminder of the present as opposed to the vortex that he could imagine was in Wolfwood's mind.