[The weight against his side muffles the din of his thoughts. He blinks once, then twice — wondering if it's a mistake that Pure Vanilla has nestled so close. He opens his mouth to say as much, but catching the faint waft of vanilla silences him. It's so much different than the false scent of flowers those hands had carried. This feels properly soothing.

In the end, Vash finishes off his tea and sets it aside, in hopes that the remaining dregs of liquor will steel his resolve. And when they do, he opts to lean against his friend in kind. There isn't too much weight — it's a gesture that can easily be ducked out of should Pure Vanilla have moved in by accident.

He hopes that the minotaur won't, though.]

I can't even imagine putting ice skates on those. [His voice lowers, not yet a murmur, but something more fitting for their close proximity.] Or would you just slide around on your hooves?

[He chuckles at the idea, but he's careful not to jostle his companion too much.]

I guess I can't complain too much about the lack of coordination with my gangly limbs.