[Discomfort, in addition to the overall strangeness and confusion of this new body... makes him snap his head back around to glare at her.]

I noticed.

[And then he's putting his face back into his hands, one lingering on the scars. At least those are familiar. At least he can still pick at them as needed. Sort of.]

... I need pants. Not jokes. You can laugh all you want when I'm not wearing a bedsheet.