"I, ah." Glacius begins but cuts himself off quickly... he really doesn't want to talk about this, but he knows that he must. He doesn't want to let anything undermine the friendship that he and Carlisle have, and he knows that if there's anyone he should listen to on the matter it should probably be the real Carlisle. But that's also part of the problem. The double was based on him, after all, shared his thoughts and every memory... so Glacius knows that he must have had some real insight into the clergyman's mind.

And that's the crux of it, really: regardless of what the clergyman says, Glacius is afraid that there will still be that niggling fear that the human might change his mind about him, or that he might be hiding the way he really feels under a veil of kindness just to procure the sense of security the alien provides. After all, the double had said it himself: there's no way something like him could ever have that much meaning to a human like himself.

The otherworldly being hangs his head, his body shuddering as the words play back in his mind in a perfect echo of his friend's voice. His gills work a few times like he's trying to get some words out, but nothing comes, and instead he simply ends up shaking his head. The walls he'd tried to start rebuilding are beginning to come down again, the devastation that the alien had suffered beginning to rear its ugly head above the rubble.