The people who were supposed to be looking after him, whom he'd snuck out on as soon as he had the opportunity, had some ideas about what to do about his arm. Vash himself had ideas mostly revolving around not being handed around to all kinds of strangers who were primarily interested in what they thought was best, not his opinions on the same.

"Nobody in the city is bothering me," he says slowly, eyeing his older counterpart's hair and accessories. "I'm just some kid who keeps getting in the way." He was much, much too young to flag as the legendary wanted criminal OR his notorious brother, which meant he could come and go as he pleased, if he so chose. "But if they were chasing you around earlier they're probably going to again, and a lot of them are armed." He pats himself briefly, and is rewarded by another small dust cloud. Hm. Maybe he should see if he can find a dust brush or something first. "You might want to make yourself not .. um, distinct. The Bad Lads look might be cool, but it's really noticeable."