[ It's definitely uncomfortable, but Noctis' feelings on the matter is unfortunately muted -- he doesn't much like the discomfort, but it doesn't matter to him either way. How strange, he thinks distantly, as he looks up at the speaker. She's a pretty young woman, and fleetingly he thinks she could have passed off as Luna at first blush. Similar beauty and warmth, even if this stranger's visibly younger.
She unfolds the blanket, and he thinks of Luna, supposing that she would do this for others, too, and where he would be filled with an odd sense of longing and sadness, he feels... nothing. How very strange; it's as if someone had crept into his brain in the middle of the night and stole something precious away and there's an odd-sized hole where his warmth has been. ]
Not really. But it's nice of you.
[ He says simply. ] Although I don't think it'll work.
no subject
She unfolds the blanket, and he thinks of Luna, supposing that she would do this for others, too, and where he would be filled with an odd sense of longing and sadness, he feels... nothing. How very strange; it's as if someone had crept into his brain in the middle of the night and stole something precious away and there's an odd-sized hole where his warmth has been. ]
Not really. But it's nice of you.
[ He says simply. ] Although I don't think it'll work.