[Wolfwood doesn't need to speak for Vash to figure out where he's going. He's taken more beatings than that before and came out without so much as a batted eyelash. Like with Wolfwood, he knows there's something more beneath the surface. His healing has always been on the slower side, but that night had been something else entirely.

He doesn't know what it means, both for himself and in the grand scheme. He doesn't like thinking about it, either. If he can't throw himself into danger as willingly, what else could he do. Throwing fists would only get him so far.

... Though of course, the longer he thinks about it, the more he knows the answer. He would still throw himself in front of a bullet, even if it killed him. But none of that was going to put Wolfwood's mind at ease, so...]

It was the cold, I think. I was having a hard time breathing, as it was. Keeping myself upright was a real nightmare. [He flashes a smile, one that's meant to reassure, even as it wobbles.] Once I get used to it, you won't see me go down so easily.

[Vash wishes he could believe as much.]