Faolan's slightly startled by the question being directed back at him in reverse. It distracts him from his intense study of the menu for the moment, instead turning to glance up at the other man, his eyes dark and intense as he considers his response. What would he like the job to be? What would he hope for?
Suddenly the frown has returned, although perhaps not for the same reasons it might have been there before. "You would not like my answer to that," he says, at last, before turning his eyes down to the menu again. This is a man who believes in fate. Believes in a greater good. What would he think of, when faced with Faolan's own brand of... What would one classify it as, even? Pragmatism? Pessimism? There is a certain loss of innocence, loss of hope to the way that he approaches a lot of his life. And it is not exactly the most uplifting dinnertime conversation.
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Suddenly the frown has returned, although perhaps not for the same reasons it might have been there before. "You would not like my answer to that," he says, at last, before turning his eyes down to the menu again. This is a man who believes in fate. Believes in a greater good. What would he think of, when faced with Faolan's own brand of... What would one classify it as, even? Pragmatism? Pessimism? There is a certain loss of innocence, loss of hope to the way that he approaches a lot of his life. And it is not exactly the most uplifting dinnertime conversation.