As always, indeed. Carlisle notes the way Glacius' body reacts to the mug, and he takes it as quickly as he can, so concerned the icy giant is hurting himself on his behalf. After all, he still worries every time Glacius retracts his protective, frozen layer; to see his microweave reacting in such a way is alarming.

Wrapping one hand around the handle as best he can and placing the other one at the side of the mug, he drinks greedily at it rather than the careful sips he'd managed before, downing all of it in a matter of seconds.The temperature doesn't seem to deter him at all -- he'd rather deal with some initial burning that wait any longer, the rest of his body reaching a breaking point in terms of aching. He's delighted to find the effect kicks in a little earlier than it should -- any respite is good at this point.

... Or so he thinks now. The shaking in his hands slows, and he lets out a relieved sigh. "Good. Very good, actually. Thank you."