"Don't peek through the window, dumbass! What if's someone's there!" Vanitas's tail temporarily puffs a little, but the dampness makes it not as visible as usual. Ventus didn't seem to see anything, at least, so there probably was nothing in view, and it settles, disgruntled.

Vanitas accepts the crackers as a peace offering, fishing one out with his claws and nibbling it while he waits for Ventus to finish writing, and reads.

"At least we're out," he says, and there's enough praise in that, he feels. Ventus's plan worked, huge glaring flaws aside. Now they need new plans. He considers the cracker thoughtfully. "Maybe." He lifts and tilts his head up over the windowsill, peeking in himself. It's dark, but Vanitas's vision is good at dark - he realises there's some kind of curtain over the window on the other side and shuffles until he's in the middle where there's a small crack. Not much other than the dark of empty space can be seen through it. "We'd have to find a way in." There's a latch, but it's up. Some experimental scrabbling with trying to get his claws in the join yields frustratingly no results. "Ugh." They've thought of everything.