They've been apart for so long. Sure, they have seen pictures - Noctis sending some of Prompto's photos along, and she frequently in the newspapers - but there's something, to being able to speak now. There's no immediate danger (the looming danger of their home will always remain), and no guards to pull them apart.

So, when she takes his hand, the barest hint of his composure drops as well. He looks like the twenty-one year old he is, smile flitting across his face, soft and shy, before he guards himself back up again, following her as they move closer to the carts.

"It is really weird," he agrees. "I'm kind of bummed the Regalia didn't make it... though maybe it'd be at the bottom of the lake, considering everything." Which would be an even more terrible fate for the car than being abandoned on Niflheim railways.

"They don't look as fluffy as chocobos either," he muses. "Which is good, I think he said not to touch them unless he was around."