Prompto settles in to listen, chin resting on his hand as the song begins. He's not the only one listening, of course, the noise of the tavern dimming a bit so others could listen to the gentle song. While he can't understand the words, the tone and meaning aren't entirely lost to him. Something sweet, almost bittersweet, hangs in the air as she sings. Honestly, he's fine with not understanding the lyrics; he's happy just listening to her and marveling at her voice.

When she finishes, he claps and cheers along with everyone else. "That's a really pretty song. Where did you learn it?"