As it happens, it satisfies the mis-wired part of his brain that was craving the violent outlet. The feeling of fabric and skin tearing beneath his claws gives him a rush. The recede though is so much more powerful; it leaves him aching once that initial angry flow ebbs and he has to face the immediate consequences of his actions. "I..." he starts, unable to really find the words. 'I didn't mean to' would sound hollow and feel so since, well, he did mean it. He knows he did, but hates that's the case. Hates himself for it.

Even worse, the blood tinting that white fabric reminds him too much again of those long gone. Of holding Aera dying in his arms. For him, of all people. The last man who deserved her kindness, her sacrifice- Just like Noctis is the last person he really wanted to draw his ire.

"What did you think was going to happen, brother?" asks Somnus, condescending.
"You want him to hurt," says Aera. "Both of you to."

"Shut up," hisses Ardyn, shaking his head as he goes from looking years away to back to the now. "Not. Not you," he attempts to correct, realizing Noctis. "As for my problems, too many to count." And Noctis is one of them, but not in the way the boy probably thinks after all this.

"I'll..." he starts, trying to think. He probably wouldn't be trusted to help him, would he? Does he even remember how to heal, after all these years? Is it something he should even show to Noctis that he's capable of? No, it's all too risky. "I'll get help," he decides on.