That's an invitation Carlisle readily takes, stepping closer toward Glacius as hacks into his hand once more. It's hard to remember, at times like these, just how much things have changed since his arrival in Hadriel: no proper Longinmouth would opt to be carried away, lest they show weakness. Carlisle himself is so generally averse to touch that it's a feat to get him to make physical contact with anyone for any reason other than healing... but here he is, depending so much on another, so trusting of his partner that he'd allow Glacius to take him anywhere without question.

And not a moment too soon, as he sees a dark shape looming on his periphery, a reflection in the mirror waiting for him to face it before lashing out for a terrible fright. Carlisle stiffens in Glacius' arms, forcing himself to look away, his eyes locking on the alien's muscular arm and his own, ink-stained hands.

"Th- the mirror, Glacius," he warns.