[ It stings more than he expects when Lloyd gets angry at him. His lips curl into a snarl when he's shoved back, but he manages to keep himself from snapping. The last thing he needs to do is scare Lloyd off.

He stares down at the wet handprints on his shirt, and regards Lloyd with some curiosity. There's a warmth to his touch that would suggest, in most humans, a fever so high that it's fatal, but Lloyd doesn't seem to be in pain. ]

Hm. [ He steps forward and touches Lloyd's cheek, leaving his hand there for as long as he would let him without recoiling. Still warm. And there was something else that shouldn't be there, too. Something both familiar (in that he carries it with him all the time) and alien (in that he's never felt it in anybody else).

Could it be -

Some weirdness was to be expected when someone was so thoroughly obliterated that an entirely new body had to be created for them. And, come to think of it, as much as the stone had a little bit of Lloyd inside of it, it had a little bit of Flagg, too. It was funny, really, that if Lloyd had to come back a little less human he'd be a little less human in this specific way. Lloyd might not find it so funny. Flagg would leave the subject alone until Lloyd realized something was off and brought it up himself. ] I brought you back from the dead, my friend, and if you don't have a 'thank you' in ya right now, that's alright.

[ He's trying, god is he trying, to muster up some patience for someone else for what might be the first time in centuries. His grin is tense and carries some malice with it (how dare you speak to me that way) but fuck, he's trying. ]

D'you want some help getting cleaned up or do you fancy walking around the wasteland covered in muck?