[ Then how did he heal? That other Vash, he'd shredded Wolfwood. His knees were destroyed, he severed all the tendons in his arm, he gutted him. That's not the kind of damage even an alumni of the Eye could walk away from! Not without help!
But his clothes aren't torn. Wolfwood stares down in shock at his trousers, examining the knees. The material is worn, dusty... but very much intact. Nobody stabbed through these pants, nobody tore them open. The vials just heal people, not pants.
How the hell is he alive, then?
Vash says something about being cold and Wolfwood, barely listening, holds out a hand. He was dead -- or dying, at the very least. He knows what that much shock and bloodloss feels like, knows what it means for a body if it's not healed immediately. This is more than healing, though -- this is like the damage was undone.
His expression, when he finally looks over at Vash, is more than a little frightened, and he's not at all trying to hide it. ]
no subject
No vial?
[ Then how did he heal? That other Vash, he'd shredded Wolfwood. His knees were destroyed, he severed all the tendons in his arm, he gutted him. That's not the kind of damage even an alumni of the Eye could walk away from! Not without help!
But his clothes aren't torn. Wolfwood stares down in shock at his trousers, examining the knees. The material is worn, dusty... but very much intact. Nobody stabbed through these pants, nobody tore them open. The vials just heal people, not pants.
How the hell is he alive, then?
Vash says something about being cold and Wolfwood, barely listening, holds out a hand. He was dead -- or dying, at the very least. He knows what that much shock and bloodloss feels like, knows what it means for a body if it's not healed immediately. This is more than healing, though -- this is like the damage was undone.
His expression, when he finally looks over at Vash, is more than a little frightened, and he's not at all trying to hide it. ]
I was dead. Wasn't I?