When Prompto glances back at the bedding situation, he has to admit he isn't too surprised to see they're put close together - close enough that they can shade body heat and protect each other if a daemon or any wildlife that's survived the endless night gets too close. The havens are still safe, ish, but they aren't the guarantee they used to be before Luna and Noct...before the sun set for the last time and here they are. As close to the fire as they can get.

"Count me in. I'm kinda starving," Prompto has to come clean. He's never been the best cook and eating out in the sticks got a lot worse when you aren't traveling with the most badass chef in the world. As much as he's toeing the water, trying to find out where things stand with Gladio, he can't say no to a cooked meal. Beats the canned meats he'd been dragging around in his back, easy. "Do you need help?"

His voice is quiet, eyes darting to Gladio and then away. He's dying to ask about the new scars, how long he's growing the mullet (it is even a mullet still?), what he's been up to. If he's maybe caught up with Iggy. The words die in his throat as he fishes about for something to say. They didn't always have awkward silences; at least he didn't think they did. Probably started happening after night fell and dawn stopped showing up.

Prompto glances down to make sure his hands aren't shaking still - they aren't - and he figures he's safe around any sharp, pointy objects now. "What do you want me to do?"

He doesn't promise it won't turn out like leather - and that's putting it kindly.