The right move, lightly jolting them from their intense stare upward.

They repeat the step of using tendril to anchor before reaching up to grasp his hand properly, letting the leg go. They're too small to risk not keeping something as a point of contact for something with such potential danger. This time it shouldn't be quite as startling, they hope.

He's allowed to choose their pace. Not that he hadn't been on the way in, but they're tired in an oddly physical way. A rare sensation.