[ Another snort, as Wolfwood turns his attention back to the road. As funny as it is to needle Wormbait here, there's a tiny thread of real anger underneath his teasing that's not going to let him drop the matter quite yet. A big chunk of his life has been centered around worshipping this asshole and his brother -- not this asshole, not this particular Vash, and it's not even Vash's fault, really, as far as he can tell, it's Millions goddamn Knives who likes to be prayed to, but still. It's still an old hurt, and Wolfwood's response to hurt will always be to hurt back, even in jest. ]
Oh c'mon, now you're just being contrary. I've got a fucking beautiful voice, see?
[ And then he's singing, full volume: ]
Oh ciiiiity of the aaaangels, beyond the jasper gaaaaates, for all these weary piiiilgriiiims, what rest and peace awaaaaits!
[ If he had to be brought up singing your praises, angel, then you get to hear about it! ]
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Oh c'mon, now you're just being contrary. I've got a fucking beautiful voice, see?
[ And then he's singing, full volume: ]
Oh ciiiiity of the aaaangels, beyond the jasper gaaaaates, for all these weary piiiilgriiiims, what rest and peace awaaaaits!
[ If he had to be brought up singing your praises, angel, then you get to hear about it! ]