Noctis' entire being just radiates discomfort seeing his father basically coo over the miniature version of a dragon that had given his party quite the run around when they'd encountered it.

He just glares when it hisses at him. Trust his dad's familiar to hate him for some reason.

"There's a big difference between a falcon and a miniature thunder dragon." Even so, Carbuncle seems vaguely intrigued by this other familiar, stretching out its nose to sniff at it from Noctis' shoulder. For once, he kind of wants the little messenger not to have that curiosity.

"It does kind of fit that the King of Lucis ends up with a dragon, though," he smirks.