Despite the overwhelming, terrible morbidity of the situation, Glacius can't help but give a little smile of his own in return. Carlisle always seems to find both the best and worst ways to strike at his heart. "Kind to me, even in your darkest moments... but I have not even done anything for you. Not yet."

The ice alien keeps the cleric tucked against his chest, but releases him with one arm to manifest his Mote in his palm. It rotates and thrums mere inches from Carlisle's chest, spilling its warm light over the both of them, inviting the ailing human to partake in its energies.

"You must let me restore you, even if temporarily. I cannot afford to let you sleep until I am sure that you have the strength to wake once more."