Wolfwood puffs a thick cloud of smoke as he drags another inhale from his cigarette, looking at the horizon of the desert of the bad lands. On the other hand, Vash is attempting to adjust one of the tents he helped putting up for the members for the following night with a kind smile that seems to brighten up the worst situations.

Especially on nights where the small group rest after a long day and the endless bullets that try to hit Vash, due to his large bounty on his head. Normal nights.