Though he looks a bit disappointed to lose the contact he was sharing with Glacius, Carlisle readily defers to his judgment. He can hardly think through the haze and the steady thudding in his chest; he can put his trust into his icy protector until his head clears.

"That's a good idea," he agrees, perfectly happy to let Glacius handle him for the moment-- he might change his mind later, when he's aware enough to be embarrassed. "Grand. Perfect. I'll rest and be in good health in no time.  I feel just fantastic at the moment."

He might change his mind on that once the tea has worn off, too.