He had a lot of recovering to do! And while the careful diet he's been put on of selected foods and vitamins and supplements is certainly ideal for the injury and hunger he'd been through it was also BORING and couldn't be conveniently stored up for later in case it happened again.
The donuts up against the rock back where he'd set up the trap, sit in their box. He won't be trying those again for a little while, maybe going from almost nothing to a half dozen pure sugar bombs was a really bad idea. It was, however, food he could save for later. A stale donut is an edible donut.
Or, as the much older plant makes an offer, he supposed he could trade them away for something else to potentially make himself sick on. "It's not your fault. Worms are smart." He doesn't know exactly HOW smart but even worm hunter professionals didn't get their quarry all the time, so they had to be pretty good at escaping at least. What restaurant is going to take them, even with cash in hand, given half the desert's dust has been kicked up and the younger Vash is definitely looking suspiciously beige instead of normal healthy colors ... that's a good question but one he's willing to find out, awkwardly leveraging himself back up to sitting, and then working on regaining his feet.
Another trap will have to be set later. "..I don't mind being barefoot. Sometimes you gotta.." He grasps at the air with his hand, frowning. "...Use toes, you know? Hard to do with a shoe on." Well, maybe he DIDN'T know, but Vash had this dim idea that maybe they shared a similar injury. Maybe more than that. "I don't want to just. Take things. Uh. ... I have half a box left of the chocolate glaze, if you want them. I can find something else later."
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The donuts up against the rock back where he'd set up the trap, sit in their box. He won't be trying those again for a little while, maybe going from almost nothing to a half dozen pure sugar bombs was a really bad idea. It was, however, food he could save for later. A stale donut is an edible donut.
Or, as the much older plant makes an offer, he supposed he could trade them away for something else to potentially make himself sick on. "It's not your fault. Worms are smart." He doesn't know exactly HOW smart but even worm hunter professionals didn't get their quarry all the time, so they had to be pretty good at escaping at least. What restaurant is going to take them, even with cash in hand, given half the desert's dust has been kicked up and the younger Vash is definitely looking suspiciously beige instead of normal healthy colors ... that's a good question but one he's willing to find out, awkwardly leveraging himself back up to sitting, and then working on regaining his feet.
Another trap will have to be set later. "..I don't mind being barefoot. Sometimes you gotta.." He grasps at the air with his hand, frowning. "...Use toes, you know? Hard to do with a shoe on." Well, maybe he DIDN'T know, but Vash had this dim idea that maybe they shared a similar injury. Maybe more than that. "I don't want to just. Take things. Uh. ... I have half a box left of the chocolate glaze, if you want them. I can find something else later."