They were... staring at him. And not for the first time since they had walked into the church, Malachi was reminded of just how young they were.

His smile faltered, but didn't fall.

"Of course," dismissed Malachi, as if the very notion of needing to be grateful to him was unnecessary. There was no need to thank him; it would have been cruel of him to let them sleep on the street (or God knows where else) when the presbytery was warm and available.

Pushing hands against his knees, he straightened back up to his full height and took a step away from the fire.

"I'll find something for you to eat. You're welcome to stay by the fire, unless you'd prefer to eat in the dining room."