[ The reprieve only last a moment before Iggy's hopping back up off his lap; Halsin keeps his hands in the air, an expression of concern and horror on his face as the worst possibility -- that he's somehow hurting his sweet young friend -- crowds into his mind once more. Instinctively, he goes to reach for Iggy to help steady him, but pulls his hand back before he touches him, his eyes widening at the sight of the black marks swirling up over Iggy's pale skin. ]

By the Oak Father.. [ Dread fills him as he tracks his gaze over the inky bruises. ] You are.. there are marks on your skin. Everywhere I have touched..

[ Horrified, he looks down at his hands, then fists them tightly, as if trying to keep the dark magic that's infested him contained. He scrambles to his feet, desire well and truly doused by Iggy's condition and the cold air on his skin, and starts picking up their clothes. ]

We should return to the house at once. [ He runs a hand over his hair, distressed. ] I'm not sure what I -- when I was revived, my hands were blackened, my magic corrupted. My healing spells only caused more pain. I had thought it gone, but perhaps it was only dormant.

[ Perhaps his magic will never recover, and his touch will forever be painful and tainted -- he tries to shake off the thought, and holds out his own shirt to Iggy. ]

Here, take this. It may be less painful if it's too big on you.