Two centuries, haah. [A hollow laugh, but Sherwood doesn't sound surprised. Exhausted, maybe? Or just jealous?]

How is your sleep? Long and deeply held-? The only mortal breeds I know to be so lengthy in life are the Elves, and they slumber half or more of that life away. I would suspect you are, indeed, some kind of immortal being without that caveat.

[Sherwood reaches to glide a hand along one of Vash's hands, very tentatively taking hold of a wrist, turning it over]

May I touch here? I could assess the shape of your soul with direct contact.

[An alarming thing to be able to do, but at least he's... asked politely?]