Faolan has been zoning out a little, staring straight ahead of him as the other man takes care of the scratches and cuts on his back. He can't say that it doesn't hurt, but it's necessary he knows, and he trusts that Lancelot's being as gentle as he can be, which is good enough for him.
He pauses for a moment at the question posed to him, turning to glance at the cut in question and the way that Lancelot's touching it. He shrugs again, as if that answers the question (but he knows it doesn't), before nodding slightly. "Yeah," he says. "It was pretty deep. At least as bad as what I'd had on the night we first met." If not worse. And Lancelot had forced him to go get stitches then. There's a distinct lack of stitches on this new wound now though. Hell, it doesn't look as fresh as the other wounds at all. Whatever Njoki did it must have sped up the healing, although Faolan didn't stick around to ask for specifics to be frank.
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He pauses for a moment at the question posed to him, turning to glance at the cut in question and the way that Lancelot's touching it. He shrugs again, as if that answers the question (but he knows it doesn't), before nodding slightly. "Yeah," he says. "It was pretty deep. At least as bad as what I'd had on the night we first met." If not worse. And Lancelot had forced him to go get stitches then. There's a distinct lack of stitches on this new wound now though. Hell, it doesn't look as fresh as the other wounds at all. Whatever Njoki did it must have sped up the healing, although Faolan didn't stick around to ask for specifics to be frank.