[ She isn't wrong, she isn't wrong in the slightest, he hates feeling all cruddy and gross!!! Even if he's gotten somewhat used to it, he sure as hell doesn't enjoy it. And he knows that tone...a few months doesn't mean he's forgotten when he should just shut up and let her take care of him. Neither of them are good about it, and he's already put her through so much these past few months...but in the end, he's just too damn tired to argue it.

Sighing more from exhaustion than anything else, Prompto steps past the curtain, Pea trotting at his heels, and once it sweeps closed behind them, he drops his bag and begins to unlace his filthy, mud-stained boots. ]

Hey, you don't know, maybe I picked up on the Gladio way of life! Wearin' my manly musk proudly. Blood, sweat, and...everything else.

[ Gods, he feels disgusting. ]