The cold mist continues to settle in the room, freezing droplets drifting onto the bed and the alien resting on it before being soaked into his own icy skin, but it will take Glacius a bit longer to actually relax. The paranoia that the gods have planted in his mind had spiked again when the first glyph sprayed its moisture, causing fears of poison in the water to fill the ice alien's thoughts and making him want to tear from the room despite his sickened state. He had to close his eyes and focus on the soothing feeling of the treatment instead of thinking of what it could be a cover for—it felt good, it was helping, the freezing mist battling with the worst of his fever.

What it was not doing was killing or harming him, and that realization was like a heavy blow to the weakening chains that the gods had shackled Glacius' mind with. He could trust this. He could trust Carlisle, more importantly. The tenseness wracking the otherworldly being's body finally released him with the worst of his paranoia, and his body went limp, limbs resting heavily on in the mattress as his head fell back into the cushions. He'd open his gills to let out a sigh, but they were still stuck together with the worst of the gunk his gills had been generating to try and fight off the sickness, making it hard for them to accept the hydration in the same way the rest of his body was. Maybe that was why his breath was still coming in short, why it was hard for him to address or thank his partner.

One of Glacius' hands twitches slightly as if he might be trying to gesture to Carlisle instead, but his joints still ache as his body is still left weak from his sickness. They still have a ways to go to relieve the alien of his suffering, but at least they've taken their first steps.