[ this impossibility nestled among the endless dunes and rocky crags of the desert is a surreal reminder that Vash is far and away from home, however much the sand and wind and skies are familiar. he is in Kenos; he is among those who are beyond his understanding, far, far from their homes - just as far as Vash is from his own.

here sits this small patch of life that blooms where growth is impossible, a bright, brilliant smudge of green on an otherwise empty horizon.

Vash's eyes remain closed where he is still against Set, the gentle feeling of life weaved to feed another, which will in turn feed more. it is a beautiful cycle. ]

Whatever you chose, it was before you came here. Everything's different.

[ he repeats himself, gently and patiently, lacking the edge of judgment. it is a truth; Set's circumstances are different. the one who haunts his footsteps, too, is different. ]

I won't hold anything against you, no matter what you do. The only thing I won't sit back and allow is for you to betray yourself.

[ because that man lingering in his shadow... he isn't here. and yet, he might as well be. Vash can imagine the sickening prospect of that fear, the remembered pain of unhealed wounds re-opened, paralyzing Set, even forcing him at his own throat before he is a danger to any other. a many-toothed maw opening to clamp down hard on the pulse of redemption, bleeding him until all he has left is to wallow in the crimson river of his own regrets. ]