[ vash moves to wipe at his own face, too, much rougher than wanda's gentle hands. his eyes are red-rimmed and his nose and cheeks are pink from irritation. he takes a deep, shaky breath to ground himself in the aftermath of a good, cathartic cry. the darkness lingers at his heels like a starved mongrel, ever eager to feast on him again-- but for now it's mollified. ]

I think Wolfwood would like a little greenery in the room, too. He doesn't remember Solvunn or... being summoned here at all, but he seems to think we got the short end of the stick ending up in the Free Cities. It feels too much like home.

[ he manages a half-hearted smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

when wanda suggest they get a meal, he hesitates, glancing down at the boar meat skewers he barely touched. he'd mostly bought them in the hopes of passing them off to any familiar faces, or to simply give his idle hands something to do. those close to him know a surefire sign that something is amiss is his telltale skipping of meals.

but for wanda he'll try. ]

Okay. You pick.