[At this age, words aren't always easy to manage mind-to-mind. It took concentration and focus, though emotions flowed very easily back and forth. Inevitably thus what upset one often set off the other, but they were working that one out quickly. Especially since it also distressed the other plants onboard.
But humans, as far as Knives knew, couldn't do it at all. No words, no feelings, nothing. And when someone else's voice echoes in his head, and he knows the difference between what his ears hear and what his mind hears, it settles one thing at least.
Whether or not that's really Vash, he is at the very least, Knives' own kind. Another plant, even if it's not actually Vash (or maybe is, that's going to have to wait), and a grown-up one at that. It's almost instinctive to allow trust based on that alone. Plants didn't harm each other (not yet), and he knew it on a level that went beyond rational thought. Part of him is immediately relieved; there are adults of his species that aren't the bulb-bound females. The rest, and the majority of him for that matter, is otherwise occupied with EVERYTHING ELSE.
He sits down abruptly in the sand, anxiousness bubbling right back up. At that distance it's a struggle to try to respond in kind, which is probably fairly noticeable on Vash's end, and after a few minutes the response is just a wash of profound unhappiness.]
[And the refridgerator.]
But humans, as far as Knives knew, couldn't do it at all. No words, no feelings, nothing. And when someone else's voice echoes in his head, and he knows the difference between what his ears hear and what his mind hears, it settles one thing at least.
Whether or not that's really Vash, he is at the very least, Knives' own kind. Another plant, even if it's not actually Vash (or maybe is, that's going to have to wait), and a grown-up one at that. It's almost instinctive to allow trust based on that alone. Plants didn't harm each other (not yet), and he knew it on a level that went beyond rational thought. Part of him is immediately relieved; there are adults of his species that aren't the bulb-bound females. The rest, and the majority of him for that matter, is otherwise occupied with EVERYTHING ELSE.
He sits down abruptly in the sand, anxiousness bubbling right back up. At that distance it's a struggle to try to respond in kind, which is probably fairly noticeable on Vash's end, and after a few minutes the response is just a wash of profound unhappiness.]
I want to go home.