Faolan hums softly under his breath as he reaches down to run his fingers through Lily's fluffy mane, over her ears, and back across her head again. "It's good to know I can be myself," he gives, glancing up at the other man after a long moment, "without worrying I'm making the wrong decision somewhere. Without constantly reminding myself of my cover, who that man is supposed to be, what he would say or do..."

The other question gives him pause though, and in contemplation of his response perhaps some of the fatigue weighing on him, having driven himself as hard as he did, might be more noticeable than before. Whatever Lancelot notices that or not is on him though, it doesn't matter to Faolan. But as far as his answer is concerned... "I don't think a moment's gone by that I haven't thought about it," he says, honestly. "Needless to say, my undercover days are certainly done now. But. I should be able to maintain the both, from there." So long as nothing in Hillingdon should lead him to disobeying his Night Council oath, of course...