His blade follows in not far along behind hers, cutting through the creature's torso and nearly coming out the other side. The way the demon roars reminds him of home, when he got a little too close and personal to the daemons that terrorized the countryside when the sun set. He ducks his head, teeth gritted as it spewed out ice at his face.

Remembering his own weapon, Prompto reaches for his dagger and stabs. He aimed for the head, but winds up getting the demon's shoulder or neck instead - he can't really look over at the moment. But it certainly lands somewhere, as despair lets out another bone chilling (almost literally) scream. "Argh, c-c-come on!" Prompto's teeth are chattering so hard, he's sure to get a headache later. Despite the cold sapping his strength, he lifts out his dagger and brings it back down.

That seems to do it. Despair begins to falter, and the cold recedes.