Casual insults and shit-talking is just how Galahdians show their appreciation Squall, don't worry about it. It's hardly as though Nyx has enough strength to stand on his own two feet, not when his knee is swollen to the point now that it's a miracle he can bend it at all. No, it's nothing but sheer stubborn willpower that gets him upright again and for all he talks shit he doesn't push Squall away. In fact he leans heavily onto the other man, the arm not currently burning with magic slung around him in return, clinging to his jacket and trying not to stumble too badly.

For all that he says he will not be carried he does allow Squall to take the majority of his weight.

"That's what happens when you sign your death warrant." Looking like shit, that is. It's been a significant moment since Squall said that so he'd be forgiven for not understanding what the hell Nyx is on about. "Was fun while it lasted though..." A grunt as that second curaga rolls through him and this time when he coughs he staggers to a stop, choking for a moment before..... something truly horrible comes out of his mouth, hitting the concrete sidewalk and skittering away with a sharp, metallic clinking.

The broad, expanded shell.... of a hollowpoint bullet.