Acting primarily out of that surge of relief, it's as if the ice alien doesn't recognize how personal this manner of contact is until Carlisle further it with an embrace--he tenses, but only for a second, and then he slumps more heavily against the clergyman and brings his tired arms up to return the embrace. A deeper sort of comfort courses through the alien as he listens to the human's even breath and steady heartbeat and registers the fact that is friend is not only responsive, but happy and stable. With the aid of the tea and the many blankets, he can even feel some body heat returning to the man; normally that's not the sort of thing Glacius would pursue--being a creature of ice, the colder the better--but he's come to find it desirable in these sorts of scenarios because it signifies the life and well-being of his friend.

He's not sure how long they both sit there like that; everything is sort of starting to run together as his mind drifts. Eventually Carlisle might notice the way his arms begin to go lax and his strained breathing evens out somewhat. He may be in the process of dozing off, the relief and comfort he feels strong enough to combat his state of hypervigilance, which had been steadily exhausting him... and though he doesn't mean to have put them both in a position where Carlisle can't reach any of the various t hings he brought in for him as easily, he's at least found a way to keep the clergyman from moving around too much that is comfortable for the both of them.