[Ah, yes. There he is, the one both halves of him have been searching for. There's Noct, and he discovers with some muted surprise that his senses have heightened to the point where he can all but taste Noct's scent — the soap he uses and the gel he wears and the sea air that sticks to his clothes after a fishing trip. It's all there, and familiar, and one half of Ignis thinks, that's mine, and the other half thinks the same thing, but in a very different way.]
Noctis.
[His voice has gone thick and gravelly, ragged in the back of his throat, but the accent is still there, and so is the lilting inflection that always accompanies his words.]
You should be in the house.
[He stays in the shadows, not quite revealing his new changes yet.]
no subject
Noctis.
[His voice has gone thick and gravelly, ragged in the back of his throat, but the accent is still there, and so is the lilting inflection that always accompanies his words.]
You should be in the house.
[He stays in the shadows, not quite revealing his new changes yet.]