The heat that Vivi generates instinctively does little to stop him from getting wet, but it does keep him from slipping into the water by accident. He looks his fill, and then finally retreats into the shack. He begins to steam as soon as he's not getting rained on, drying out more or less on instinct.

"The souls of the dead sleep there," he says, "or they used to. Now they're all crushed together into some kinda big...thing. That's all I know...it used to be peaceful once, but it's not any more." He tilts his head in thought. "But it's Hell, so maybe they only looked at peace?"

He looks out at the open door, enjoying the relative quiet, the sound of the endless rain. "It's still kinda peaceful, though. Even if it's sad. I can hear them crying, sometimes."