Noctis is just glad to see that there's no warzone out here. That they haven't been entirely living in a bubble while people die. There's still a war, and he still knows there are more dangerous spots further out - but it's not being ignored on the front doorstep.

"The plan is, that there is no plan," Noctis states, confidently. He's also fairly reasonable; he doesn't think they'll make it further than Hammerhead before someone sends the Glaives out for them, but it's nice to imagine they'd get as far as the Post.

He stops when he looks at the Dualhorn, eyeing it a little warily before he shrugs and grins. "Wanna find out? I'll protect you if it does notice."

He's already starting to inch closer.