No, they are not good, but Glacius doesn't have even the slightest idea of how to handle this situation. He sits all the way up on his knees now, using the leverage to place his hands on the lanky clergyman's shoulders as he pushes him back against the couch cushions.

"You--sit back, rest. I need to finish getting all of this blood off of you, and then you are getting in that bed and sleeping this off." At least his magically addled state means that his scars shouldn't be too sore... hopefully. Maybe. He is honestly not sure what to expect from this interaction any more.