As it turns out, preening such a mess is quite the undertaking when you only have one intact mandible; Glacius starts out adamantly enough, but then begins to falter from embarrassment when he realizes his disfigurement is causing issues. Carlisle's quietly amused approval comes just in time; it snags the alien up from that treacherous precipice of internal self-debasement, who warbles softly as he starts anew on another spot... and then the hand directly against the unfortunate scar banishes his remaining woes over the issue.

"Ah... good, good I'm glad," Glacius murmurs, pausing in his grooming to tilt his head against the clergyman's hand. It's hard to focus on the difficulties the disfigurements causes, both physical and emotional, when his partner is caressing it like that... and that's exactly what he wants. Sure enough, he finds a tone that's more usual for him, assured and fondly amused: "Are you sure you didn't ruffle it all up like that just to give me ample excuse to heap my affections on you? Because I don't need one, but... I'm enjoying this, too."