@burytone
"Midvalley?" There's no mistaking his distinct style, despite being without his signature instrument.
The Stampede figures he's only made it this close to the other man for blending into the modestly populated crowd of commuters well enough; they're all waiting around for an incoming train ride, soon to take them from Fibonacci to its polar quadrant of the Golden Ward.
"...Hello." The last he'd seen of the Hornfreak was his time in the brig of Home, where he had once been held himself for a years' time in his youth. Worried that his presence might scare the man off, Vash quickly tries to ask him something, thinking that a conversation could help steel the other's notably fraught nerves.
This man was evidently good at his craft as a musician, so perhaps he was off to entertain others somewhere. "You headed straight for Golden, or...?"