He feels a bit like a dog being told to sit and stay, but rather like one, he is obedient. He's only just starting to consider what he's meant to do beyond this when finally the little shadow by the stairs decides to move.

Ravus suspects there will be- Well, not Noctis immediately leaning on him. There's a surprised sound low in his throat, confusion welling up as if he means to ask why. But he doesn't quite get there. Not before the sulky prince half-accuses, half-pouts about him leaving.

"I was told it would be best to leave for a time. I... I simply did not know when that time would change." Or rather, Ravus didn't think it would ever change. That there simply wouldn't be time enough to ever heal that wound. If it could heal at all. Ravus himself isn't sure he quite believes the saying as it is.