[He doesn’t think any of it makes much sense. His cane is not deterred even when Prompto swats it away, just planting it again on his shoulder.]

Is that right?

[The more you poetry, the better person you’ll be. Prompto says something so ridiculous with the confidence that only a drunk person can exude, it’s hard not to be impressed. An interesting concept, if not altogether wrong.]

If only that were the case. You can be a diligent purveyor of poetry and still be a bad person.

[He presses against Prompto with his cane one final time before finally relenting. It falls parallel to his side.]

But like I said, I will read to you, if that’s what you want. Tradition notwithstanding.