[Oh. Okay. Prompto can understand being scared. It's, like, the one things he understands, ever, so if he lowers his voice to be a little gentler, that's all it is.]
Everybody has them, right? Even if...
[He rubs his fingers against the softness of the blanket, then pulls it around his shoulders, unhappy. Back still to Izunia, he draws a slow line through the wet gravel of the beach with the heel of his boot, looking for words.]
Well, what kinds of things don't have souls? Do animals? They gotta.
[He turns to bring the light back, so Izunia won't be stuck with the dark.]
no subject
Everybody has them, right? Even if...
[He rubs his fingers against the softness of the blanket, then pulls it around his shoulders, unhappy. Back still to Izunia, he draws a slow line through the wet gravel of the beach with the heel of his boot, looking for words.]
Well, what kinds of things don't have souls? Do animals? They gotta.
[He turns to bring the light back, so Izunia won't be stuck with the dark.]