He didn't like sleeping. Not in this world at least. He didn't know what about it put him on guard at all times, and because of that he was almost always exhausted. All of the time. It was ridiculous and he knew it. If Jack was around he was fairly certain that she would knock him out with the butt of her gun just so that he could get a little bit of sleep. But that also brought up the rest of the question where the rest of the crew as. Were they turned into animals as well? Or were they still humans somewhere in this world and they could possibly meet up with them? Not like they would be capable of understanding them but it would at least put his mind at ease that they were okay and actually not dead like he believed the rest of the crew to be. There were a lot of people that were considered to be in the crew, and it had been his fault that all of them were killed. Vagabond wasn't even sure if they trusted him completely as they used to thanks to his bad shot calling. They had done everything that they could, but it still led them to a mistake that took the rest of their lives with it. Vagabond would be lying if he said that he didn't have nightmares. He had nightmares when he was a human as well so him dealing with his nightmares wasn't exactly something that was a surprise anymore. Sometimes he would dream of the time where he had gotten captured by an enemy gang and was tortured to where he thought that he was actually going to die. He had nightmares of the several moments where some of the crew were so close to death and barely survived from their injuries. Vagabond was fairly certain that almost everyone in the gang had nightmares too, so he wasn't alone in that factor. He would sometimes hear screaming in the massive penthouse that most of them slept in, and he would wake up with a start. He wouldn't be the one to go out and comfort them though, as he simply didn't know how. He secluded himself from most of the gang, something that he was usually lectured on and hardly cared about.

He was fairly certain that Jack was the one to go to them first. She was basically the mother of the group and made sure that they were okay no matter what stupid things they had done in the past. Vagabond lost count of how many days that he had actually been awake. He guessed that him staying awake did end up paying off though because he had found a place that would be his own little hideout. It wasn't exactly hidden, but it wasn't occupied either and was somewhat of a maze itself. It was a cave inside of the canyon, not extremely close to the main camp, and it had four different tunnels that branched out into different directions. He didn't trust the Roseblood's camp compared to some of the rest of the crew so he just decided to stay in this place. It was almost hilarious to think of himself living in a literal cave. He could already hear the jokes being made. Vagabond had yet to make the place his own, and he slept in one of the caves that were attached to the large cave itself. Well, he wasn't really sleeping as more like he was laying there in the middle of the night. Sleep deprivation could create a number of different symptoms. He wore his mask as he was laying on the cold hard ground of the cave, his eyelids slowly but surely starting to cover his eyes as exhaustion raked his body. As soon as his eyes closed, however, Vagabond forced his eyelids to open up again as he wasn't going to go asleep that easily. As his eyes opened though, he was met with the barrel of a pistol directed to his left eye. Panic immediately flooded his body, and a startled yell escaped his body as he scrambled from his laying position.

While he moved, one of his throwing knives removed themselves from the sash that he wore and flew at top speeds at where he had just seen the barrel of the gun. One blink later and looking around, Vagabond realized that he was alone. His heart was pounding in his chest, and thanks to the high blood pressure that was common with sleep deprivation, he suddenly became dizzy, barely catching himself from falling on his face. The Hellhound closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, using the breathing techniques he had learned long enough to control his raging pulse. Once he could move without wanting to vomit, his eyes turned to look at the knife that was protruding from the wall. His air elementals had thrown the knife so hard it had embedded itself into the rock wall. Although, the handle the broken off of it, making the knife basically useless to him now. He needed some fresh air, and he needed some now. The hellbeast got up into a standing position and weaved his way through the various tunnels of his cave, before coming out of the entrance and making his way toward the waterfall that was just adjacent to the cave. Vagabond didn't care about how cool the water was, as he put his head underneath the waterfall and let the water fill up portions of his mask, which he wouldn't drown as there were holes at the bottom of the mask where he could take it off. A chill ran through his body as the cold water seeped through his inky black fur. He was fine. There was no one that was pointing a gun at his head. His twin tails lashed wildly and sporadically behind him.