Their cloak is warm. They're warm, appealingly so, and grabbing hold of their arm was the best decision he's made all day, especially when they slow so he can match them.

"Sheer luck," he declares, and then adds, with a spark of inspiration, "It's a miracle, really."

He's not expecting the invitation to their hive, and for a moment, it throws him. They're not suggesting - no, no, of course not, and he feels terrible for considering it. OA's been intimidating, but not exactly untoward. It's not his place to cast aspersions.

"Ah." He chews on his lip. "If that's alright with you! I wouldn't want to, haah, be a bother.."