The scrape of a boot sliding too hard against snow and ice. That's what has Ignis turning his head, and he hears the guttural intake of breath just a split-second before he can see what's happening.

See that creature wrapping itself tight around Gladio's throat, trying to throttle him into unconsciousness, trying to devour all it can as it presses its maw against his head. Not physically devour, but something else.

Ignis knows this. Knows the briefing he was given by Charlie and Dimitri. Just like he knows they will cause a psionic explosion upon death.

And yet his first immediate instinct, all violence and panic, has him lunge forward. "Gladio!" Perhaps the sound idea would be to pull a dagger out from the Armiger, but this Ignis hasn't quite gotten into the habit yet. What he does have is a long nail in one hand.

And teeth.

Surprisingly sharp teeth.

One hand grabs at Gladio's shoulder, primarily to make sure the other doesn't thrash about or move too much, because the other hand is driving the nail directly towards the base of one tentacle. Not enough to sever it - especially not with a nail, not meant for cutting - but enough to damage the muscles there surely. Enough to make it weaken its grip.

And if that's not enough, then he's already digging his teeth into the flesh to do a much better job of severance.