Really, he looks so pathetic - a lost dog left drenched by the rain and huddling in the gutter for even a fascimile of warmth - that Ignis almost feels regret for having cornered him so thoroughly like this. Almost.

Not nearly enough for him to keep his hand still as it rises up, taking Ravus by the chin and forcing him to look back at him.

"And if we are relying on the faulty evidence of things I did not say," he whispers. "Then I never once said that I did not still wish to be your friend, Ravus."

His own words strike true in his chest, then. Funny how he's been trying not to think too deeply about it, been wrapped up in so much work he's had to do, that he's not realized such a simple truth. Whatever that may mean, he still longs to keep Ravus as his friend. As someone close to him.

Taking a breath, Ignis lowers his hand now that Ravus is forced to properly look at him. "Just because you can simply survive out here, having experience worse, does not mean you should continue to experience worse. Do try to have a better view of my own person than to think I would simply leave you abandoned out here in the cold, ignored and neglected. Instead, simply do as I say, and come with us. To be in a warm house, and eat food I would at least like to think is half-decent."