Ignis can feel the warmth of the sun beating against his back through the window, but compared to the others, it doesn't offer much comfort to the Hand of the King. It is just an eternal reminder of what transpired on this day. It is the hand that offers the solace at this moment, a hand of the person that is going through the same thing as he is, and nothing else.

His head turns towards Prompto as he mentions chocobos and it somehow manages to get his lip to twitch. "...the sneaky, black one too."

There's silent, solemn understanding between them. Or, at least, Ignis understands. Prompto doesn't have to give him any explanations.