Ravus makes a low, whiny noise that's probably a continued protest to being called silly. He is not silly at all, thank you very much. And he's only a little intoxicated, he swears! The little flickers of pure clarity keep convincing him of it. The fact so much of it is surrounded by haze, and slight headache, and feelings he's no name for don't seem to factor into his consideration.

At least when he's nudged, he takes the cue. It's difficult to find his balance, but he uses Ignis' shoulder to keep himself anchored, and manages to stand. Naturally, he's a gentleman that helps Ignis to his feet as well. While his claws are gentle in that he's sure not to curl the points in, keeping his strength under control proves more difficult for his impaired motor-skills. Assisting Ignis may be a bit more like lifting him.

"Apologies," he rumbles, claws skating carefully down from Ignis' shoulder to his side, looking to ever-so gently find his wrist again. There's no small measure of guilt for overusing his strength more than once tonight. He just wants to make sure he hasn't left bruises-

Except, somehow, his magitek hand presses past Ignis', behind him. Ravus could almost swear he hears a chiming little laugh from somewhere, but it's certainly not his dragon.

The next moment, before he even has the chance to consider his own impending doom, Ravus' claws quite suddenly grab a meaty handful of Ignis' ass. And squeeze.

The giggling in his brain turns to raucous peals of laughter. Except to Ravus even that is drowned out by the sudden panicking tempo of his heart kicking up. He's frozen in place, gawking with a dumbstruck expression that rapidly devolves into horror.

What in all the hells is happening?