Glacius can't help but flinch slightly as Carlisle provides that sharp contrast to his double that he so desperately needed to hear, the shock of relief he feels at the notion that the man doesn't look down on him for any of this enough to move him physically. It is also enough to finally elicit a familiar expression from the alien: a tentative but fond grin seems to finally lift his features, which had been weighed down by sorrow and hurt for so long now. "Yes, I suppose we do. So I will do my best to remind you often that you are valued and cared for, and..."

The otherworldly being trails off at the same time that the clergyman does, watching him try to flex his fingers, taking note of the way his expression tightens. That's right--wasn't he having difficulty with his hands before? Glacius gives a soft warble, moving one of his own down to touch his fingertips to the back of the human's. "Carlisle... what is wrong? Are you experiencing pain again? There's ink here, too..." Which he can't recall if he's ever seen before--coming up out of his mouth, yes, but seeing it well up from underneath his fingertips is new and alarming.