[ As he opens his mouth to respond, only for Prompto to continue in some form of exuberant indignation, Gaelio believes he's been misunderstood.

Parted lips close, his eyebrows tilting, a muted commingling of surprise and humor. ]

How impressive.

[ Humor, so humoring?

Maybe.

Someone to look out for. Gaelio does not misinterpret, but he cannot resist hearing and answering it as a more wary question, the sort a member of a Crownsguard should be asking. ]

Brigadier General McGillis Fareed.

[ A terrific joke, yes? Only as soon as he speaks the words, how little levity fits in the blitzed craters of his mind leaves them falling sour and disjointed, a clacking clutter in his skull. So he retracts. ]

Just kidding.

[ Yes, a terrible joke. Moving on. ]

Pals, huh... [ They aren't pals. ] If we're pals, [ they're not. ] I'll tell you, I questioned not your ability, but your purpose.

[ The suffering in being apart from him for whom he strove. ]