It takes Iris two seconds too long to figure out what Wilhelm meant by those words, though it should have been pretty obvious when accompanied by that impish grin. Fact is, by the time he realizes he should feel some level of indignation, they're already well on their way down the halls, thereby making impotent any ire he could have summoned up in his defense. But if he stands a little straighter, tips his chin up a little higher, that's its own form of defiance, right? Maybe not... Not like it really makes much of a difference, if we're being honest here.

Fortunately for his pride, he's easily distracted. Once the shadows fold over him like a veil, his hackles raise, and for a brief moment he feels a panic he's not known since he was four years old, discovering the vastness and mystery of the dark and all that could be scary from that.

His hand grips Wilhelm's a little tighter, once he realizes he can still feel. He walks a lot closer, practically overlapping the taller boy's steps when he can. He focuses on the touch, on the faint but distinct smell of soap and Wilhelm, and lets that ground him where the darkness would otherwise have him floating off.

"Oh," is all he ends up saying, breathing, eloquent thing that he is.