Late in the afternoon..Vash's eye lids fluttering open as a warm breeze brushed against his face. His green-blue eyes, sharp and striking, blinked slowly as he adjusted to the brightness. A faint groan escaped him as he sat up, sand spilling from the folds of his red trench coat.

Eveninglight caught the edge of his blonde mohawk, the sides of his head shaved clean, a beauty mark resting just beneath his left eye. His black turtleneck clung to his frame beneath the coat, and the glint of a silver hoop earring flickered as he turned his head.

Vash rubbed his temple, still groggy, from the fight against Bandits last night.

He blinked,This is No Man’s Land.

He looked down, finally registering the soft, sand beneath his gloved hand. The once-again red dust and endless desert.

His looking for food and water, he looks through his backpack and found it he holds it like the Holy Grail. A half eaten donut. Vash loses footing on a rock. A bird fly by takes it and flying away with it.

Vash (yelling ) HEY THAT'S MY BREAKFAST!!. A part of him wants to shoot the bird. But he doesn't do it. He's now in the fetal position crying in the sand.