Ah. Right. Malachi’s fingers flexed and his hands returned to rest behind his back, as if on cue. There were… many reasons why he had reacted the way he did when Tully touched him, but none of them felt appropriate to share. Even as he spoke, the priest looked embarrassed to even be reminded.

“That- yes. You’ve seen me in a… vulnerable state,” almost naked, “so I’ll admit that I dislike being touched where my…”

He’d never particularly liked the word ‘scars,’ but it was the right one. Malachi cleared his throat and continued, “on my scars. Like on my wrist. But it was an overreaction, yes.”

Malachi bit idly at the inside of his cheek, and did his best not to look as affected by the mention of Aslan as he felt.

“Yes. I just wanted to make sure that I found you, to at least try to make you feel less unwelcome here. And- the other thing, yes.”