Though his eyes are still closed, Glacius is completely aware when Carlisle stumbles--his brow furrows and he allows himself to be tugged down, slightly, the better for the human to get the support he needs. The arm he has around the man also tightens reflexively as well, and then they're on to the bed.

"Interesting--I suppose it makes sense that the different orders wear different vestments," the ice alien responds, without opening his eyes even a crack--he's hoping that focusing on the clergyman's religion, one of his favored topics, will help him take his mind off of what's happening right now. "What of your own? I know about the door on your tabard-- but does the construction of the garments mean anything in particular?"