It's still a bit strange: sprawled out for sleeping, instead of his usual defensive curl. But he can't fit around them both, and besides that, he knows the pair is fond of pillowing on his chest. So he takes them both from Ignis' hold, and settles down mostly on his back. Hopefully without disturbing them too much.

Running his real fingers through Noctis' hair at the nape of his neck, and his metal claws through Prompto's, Ravus feels a great warmth in his heart that bays any chill from the fading winter night. The panic of the day having been subsumed by the soft closeness of the people around him. It's... nice. Nicer than he ever really imagined it might be.

There will be enough uncertainty and hardship for the future, of that, Ravus has never doubted. But for now, he's quite content to watch Ignis wiggle himself into place with Gladio. Once he does, Ravus pauses his petting long enough to gently brush the back of his knuckles first against Gladio's shoulder, and then Ignis', as a quiet bid of goodnight, and unspoken thank you for letting him share this.