Chase lets him. He can't get out the door before Chase can grab him again, and he's aware, distantly, that he's probably not going about this the right way. He does take a minute, himself, to put his face in his hands and scrub, half to try and focus, half to get the rest of the mud off from their fall.

Mud. There's mud all over his clothes. And the darkling's.

He rouses himself to get to his suitcase. "You're about the same height as me... these should fit okay," he says, holding out fresh jeans and a shirt. "They're clean. And dry. You can change in the bathroom, it's right there."