Ardyn has been out of touch with society for so very long he certainly has no idea that he has just played his role perfectly. There's a certain spiteful bone-deep satisfaction that all teenagers feel when someone responds to their whatever by parroting the word with outrage and disgust. Noct has a lot of practice with maintaining that detached expression while internally cheering in bitter victory. It only solidifies that he has, in some manner, won this particular argument.

What he doesn't expect is the burst of ice, something that frosts his bare skin painfully but that he is quick to turn his face from. The bulk of it falling on his side where there is at least some of that thick protective fur. The arm he raises to shield his face makes it even easier for Ardyn though, makes certain Noctis does not anticipate the claws that come at him. It means he doesn't have time to phase away from them before vicious claws bite into his side, tearing open fine lines along his ribs, just above the protective fur.

Noctis snarls a sharp sound, pained and startled before he's phasing away from the other man. It doesn't take him far, half a step away, able to duck out from under the space where Ardyn has had him blocked in against that tree. The pale draping fabric of his cloak is swiftly stained bright red as he pulls the material close to stop the bleeding as much as he can. "What the fuck is your problem?!" Noctis snaps and this time it's his sword that comes to his hand.

Ardyn can look as hurt as he wants, it's not something that Noctis pays any mind to. Maybe later when he looks back on this he'll wonder about it but right now, in the moment, he's just pissed.