"I have not, no," Faolan answers, although his attention is at once drawn entirely to the insect. Like a cat on the hunt, the comparison not entirely unjust. He narrows his eyes at it. He's already tried and failed on several occasions to get the thing. He does not know whether it is the fact that it has thus evaded him or its mere presence that he suddenly finds offensive on a personal level, but to say that it irritates him is an understatement.

His fingers tighten slightly around his coffee mug. "Perhaps I have learned my lesson." Or perhaps he has simply lost the vampire's trail again, as the case may be. The words are directed at Lancelot, but Faolan's eyes remain on the fly, as it circles the room and heads back towards them once more.