[ It dawns on her that she slipped into Italian, the native tongue of her mortal shell, and she simpers before responding. It's an eerie sounding thing, like a stringed instrument being scratched instead of properly played. ]
Yes, Noctis. It seems your friends are melting; if I may?
[ Claws of bone white and space-void black raise up, a silent self invitation to summon assistance. ]
no subject
[ It dawns on her that she slipped into Italian, the native tongue of her mortal shell, and she simpers before responding. It's an eerie sounding thing, like a stringed instrument being scratched instead of properly played. ]
Yes, Noctis. It seems your friends are melting; if I may?
[ Claws of bone white and space-void black raise up, a silent self invitation to summon assistance. ]