If they'd spent their childhoods talking with the plants that survived the Fall like some Vashes did, instead of tagging around after their brother, they might have gotten better at it! Either way, it'll be something to practice, thinks this Vash, as he crouches behind one of the larger boulders off the side of the road, waiting until the shouting in the distance dies back. How useful, to be able to talk to each other without radios, and to know when one of their ever-growing family is nearby!

Finally the coast is clear, except for the other version of himself. The other Vash feels like a bright spot in Vash's mind, a little spark in the dark bobbing ever closer. Vash thinks a greeting to that spark before emerging, just so the inevitable gravel crunching underfoot as he approaches won't sounds like an ambush. "Thanks for your help!"

It's thanks to this other Vash that he got away unscathed -- there's no fresh holes in his coat, bullet or otherwise, and he didn't have to use any of his dwindling energy reserves, either. His hair is mostly black at this point, with just an off-center streak of gold remaining. "I hope you didn't have any trouble getting away?"