A slight grunt is the only indication of exertion on Charles’ end as he is scrambled upon, though his arm does shift to form a supporting crook for the other to sit upon once they’d finished their arduous journey up his side. It was as much to support them as it was to make the sudden weight on his left a tad more manageable. 

“You’re in an interesting mood,” He observed, not appearing too bothered by the sudden adornments he had acquired in the form of a human barnacle and the soft petals of a flower in his hair. “What’s the occasion then?”