That relieved laughter is a far cry better than the pained coughing or frightened, unintelligible ranting of before--but it's that heartfelt term of endearment that strikes at the alien most deeply, stunning him into silence. The Mote speaks for him, though; it thrums audibly as its rays pulse sharply.

That metaphysical light also just so happens to be the only thing keeping Carlisle from getting flipped and pounced. Instead, Glacius manages a happy little whine as he squirms, looping his free arm around his partner as he tries to tangle their legs together, clearly attempting to get them as close as physically possible without upsetting the way the human is burrowing against his side. The otherworldly being likes it when he does that--he likes being Carlisle's shelter, his haven from his fears and worries; a protector worth more than just his fighting capacity, though that is clearly valued too, if the clergyman's reassurances are any indication.

"And that is truly the greatest honor I have ever received," Glacius finally finds his voice, his words a passionate rumble. Given all of the different alien leaders he's stood before--his own included--that's no minor accolade, but Carlisle should know by now that his partner only speaks in truths. "And... I love you too. That is why you may call upon me for anything, at any time; all I want is to stand by your side, and to make your life in this cave easier to bear, if I can."