Ravus doesn't know what answer he wants, only that he needs it to be an honest thing he can believe in. Whatever it is, he'll accept it. In the same way he has simply accepted what Prompto is, and how similar it makes them.

So it shouldn't surprise him that Prompto is looking for that same genuine desire, and not the pitiful sympathy one might pass to a beaten dog. He should have known, really.

There's a light sound from Ravus, just the amused exhale of someone letting go of the breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding onto. The silver leans in, and presses his forehead to Prompto's. His hands cradle the blond's face with a measured gentleness, always so mindful of his strength, always so mindful of his wicked claws.

"Then you have my most solemn vow, dear Prompto. I will let you shine your light in my world, and gladly look to its kind glow."