She can almost smell his blood on the wind, it was a good attempt to get loose by the fae who was finding his prey much less agreeable now that they were both unarmed. He fetched up against the tree with a jarring impact, of his shoulder and snarled twisting like an eel in Lancelot's grip. Finally, stuck between a rock an a hard place the fae grits his teeth. He doesn't talk to Lancelot though, his words are for Mab. "I grew carried away." It sounds sulky. "My apologies, Lady, for deviating from the hunt. I am bested." And if it sounded like saying so disgusted him a little it was probably because it did.

Mab's face had gone impassive as soon as the Fae had drooped in Lancelot's grip. Now her horse stepped forward a few steps so that she was looking down at the Fae. "The mortal lawman has the right to see you put in an iron cage." And that would be slow death for a fae. Mab lifted her eyes to Lancelot and tilted her head a little. The distrust in Lancelot eyes was all but palpable. The fae in his hands started to look distinctly worried. "What say you, constable?"