Cole looks up as Ben comes over, but Ben feels the same as ever, worry, concern, affection... no revulsion or fear of him. He closes the templar's eyes and plucks the scabbard for the knife from her belt, strapping it to his own hip and thigh, cleaning the blade on her sash before sheathing it. "Don't get too near. Red Lyrium is parasitic, infectious."

He reaches out his hand again, but then hesitates. He knows Ben doesn't feel different, but that doesn't mean he wants to hold a hand that was just intimately involved in killing someone, even if there's no blood on it. He knows that Ben hates the gore, the memories of being soaked and stinking.