Aware he should trust Glacius knows what he's doing, Carlisle nods, a sigh rattling through him. "Just be careful, please. I... worry about you. About burdening you. About- about losing you." And he doesn't want to lose Glacius any more than the alien wants to lose him.

He relaxes once more as best as he can. He'd suggest that a shower would be far easier, but he's not sure he could manage standing on his own for long enough to take one. Some enchanted tea would help stave off the stiffness of his limbs, but he expects he'll need at least a day of rest to recover from what he's been through. It might be even longer before Glacius recovers from his ordeal... if he recovers at all.

Carlisle's eyes close again as he bites back frustration, Glacius' trust in him so obviously hindered by what the double had said. He can't say he blames Glacius for his doubt -- the alien has been through so much, been betrayed by his kind before. Carlisle can't say he'd trust himself, either. Who would trust a twice-cursed, those who bring misfortune upon everyone they meet?

That extends to other worlds as well, it seems. He tries not to give in to his paranoia, but he's so sure that this friendship will one day end, possibly messily.