Ah. This little creature was hesitant too. Malachi watched their careful expression as they remained still, and wondered how long it had been since someone had offered any kindness to them. They looked far from sickly or hurt (they were closer to glowing, in fact), but there were other cruelties beyond the struggles that came with learning to fend for one's self. The world was harsh, and the people within it were harsher.

Their flighty demeanor conjured visions of a frightened deer, ready and willing to run.

(Rarely did the poor things run in the right direction.)

The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly when they stood.

Malachi turned, guiding them easily out of the aisles. At the sound of their voice he turned his head, but did not stop his stride.

"No trouble at all," he assured, hoping that he had understood the phrase correctly. "That is why I am here."

Once he'd made it to the door, he pushed it open, and held it for Chéri to pass through. The sacristy was tidy and clean, but Malachi paid no mind to it, continuing on towards the presbytery.

"Ah- here," Malachi did stop then, and turned to face them with a hand held out. "I can carry that for you, if you like. I'm sure you must be tired."