@depupe
★ --;; Vash sits a bit away, leaned back in one of the benches in the park his friend has decided to take up residence in on this particular Sunday, listening idly as he goes on to whoever will listen, eyes following lazy paths around the surrounding area and legs stretched out far in front of him. It’s relatively quiet, save for Livio, the cars off in the distance a vague white noise against the silent engulfment of snow. Occasionally he can catch a glance of a warm puff of air as he breathes out from beneath the scarf he’d finally broken down and bought. A desert-dweller can only take so much, after all.
“Your sermons are starting to sound a bit reserved,” he calls over eventually, when finally it’s just the two of them again on this stretch of path. “Something got you rattled, priest man?”










