Isolation. Sometimes getting away from a place was good for one's mental health depending on the person's current health. While when it came with others, it could drive someone insane and they would be able to even know about it until it was too late. He had thought that isolating himself a little bit so that he could get a hang of the world around him would be the best idea. It wasn't uncommon for him to venture out by himself and take a good while before he returned. Especially when he was human and took his time when it came to dealing with private jobs from his own clients. Vagabond didn't just work for the crew, but he had his own side business so that when they weren't doing anything for the crew they could simply do something by themselves. He wasn't always a team player, at least, he hadn't been a team player for a very long time, but the organization that he had once worked with had shaped him.

To say that he was coming back sane was out of the question. Of course, he had never really been sane dealing with the gang that he had joined over the years before arriving in a place that could easily drive him mad if he wasn't careful. The Hellhound had busied himself with finding victims in his way, not bothering to learn more and more about the world around him. Since he had so much time on his hands, it meant that he was able to figure out different torture methods that he could play around with if he needed to. Being alone though meant that he was alone with his own thoughts, and to say that was a bad idea would be an understatement. It had gotten to the point where he refused to take off the mask that he constantly wore on his face, having it almost cemented onto his face. On top of that, he was starting to hear a strange voice in the back of his head. His own personality fighting against the influence of whatever the hell it was. Vagabond did know about multiple personalities, but he never thought it would happen to him and was fairly certain that he was perfectly fine and that he was just in a condition where he needed to be careful. That was all. He was stubborn in that regard, and he didn't know where the rest of his crew was. They could easily take care of themselves, as they had proved time and time again that nothing could potentially knock them down. He wasn't their babysitter, and they had probably adjusted well with the new world that they lived in.

Vagabond was still struggling with everything, and since he had disappeared for a while, he didn't know about the move. Or the uproar that had happened talking about the murder of a Tanglewood member that had been him. Did he remember something that had happened months ago? Nope. He didn't even know the group's names either. So, what was the reason for him to try to find this place again? He needed to find another base of operations, and he was tired of having to run around all the time hoping that everything would be okay. It was a pain in his ass and he hadn't had any normal interactions with anyone in a very long time. Scars littered his body in different places and claw marks covered the metal mask that covered his face. The elongated human skull mask still pressed up against his features as he made his way toward the buildings. How did he find this place? Easy. He kindly asked for directions. In a manner that he believed to be kind. The creature had a swift death after all instead of being tortured for information. The massive 6ft tall Hellhound flicked his ears as he looked at the buildings in front of him, remaining quiet. He was a lot quieter than he used to be, and he had several tricks up his sleeves if anyone wanted to mess with him. The massive brute simply decided to stroll between the buildings, rolling his eyes slightly with how dated the buildings were. What he would give to live in an actual city again.

Home? This wasn't his home. This was far from his damn home. He would never consider this place home as long as he lived. Had they realized what the crew had been up to? He wasn't quite sure, and honestly didn't really care either. What did he have to lose? His life? He had lost that once, and after spending several months in this world he doubted that he was here exactly for redemption after being killed while he was a human. Vagabond didn't care about anyone that was in this group and would quickly kill them if he had the chance. Could they stand a chance against him? He wasn't sure, but again, he didn't really care. The massive beast probably would have said something snarky toward the dragon, who he had recognized as Bai Shi since the raid that they had dealt with a couple months back. Who was it again? He didn't remember, as that was far too long ago and he had other pressing matters to deal with. Would Rimmy and Goldenboy still be here? That was honestly doubtful. He wished that they were because it would make his life easier, but he wasn't really concerned about their well being either. The thought of the world that he was still in was certain jarring and some aspects of this world he didn't really get over very quickly. His metal masked face turned to look up at the massive dragon that was in front of him. The creature probably could have killed him with one movement of its legs to stomp him into the ground. Yet it didn't. Vagabond's stark blue eyes were cold, but the coldness wasn't directed toward Bai Shi, but instead, it was just a general feeling.

He flicked his ears at the welcome back, which he was surprised slightly by. His head looked around at the buildings that were around him, obviously having noticed the change in scenery. The last thing he remembered with this group was the entire place being on fire. Vagabond's twin tails seemed to fidget behind him as they moved over one another and he shifted his weight, the muscles around his shoulder shuddering at the movement. "Thanks" Vagabond said in what sounded like a deeper voice than what it had been the last time the two fo they had spoken. Of course, he wasn't thankful for the welcome, but standing in silence probably wouldn't really help his case. His darkened eyes turned to look at a figure that ran toward them. His head looking downward at the creature and noticed that it was a youngster. At least he thought it was. While he was a human, he knew about lions on the simple factor that most gangs used them as their symbol to make it seem like they were brave and strong. So much that did when they were squealing under his knife as soon as he started. The kid was certainly respectful, addressing by saying 'Mr.'.

The twin tails behind him stilled slightly, and the canine didn't say anything for a couple of moments. He hadn't really had any conversations with anyone unless he was torturing someone for information. The Hellhound knew that he had a name for himself in these places, or at least, they knew of his presence as no one had figured out what he had done with all the killings. Luckily for Kimu, Vagabond had a soft spot for children. He wasn't completely insane to at least know that much. "Taking in the scenery. The last place was a bore." Whether or not he was talking about the last place that the Rosebloods lived, or the last place he had taken shelter, was up to the everyone interpretation. He hated the desert. There was still sand here, but at least he avoids some of it by going through certain areas. The killer would tilt his head slightly as he looked at the cub, and there was a pause before he spoke again. "Name?" Vagabond questioned the child, his voice keeping to a low and dangerous tone with every word that left his mouth.