Faolan does see them off himself, as best he can, in his own way. He nods in response to Arthur, colors in response to Gwaine, and he does shake Percival's hand in return, trying not to feel too intimidated by how dwarfed the other man makes him feel. With all three of them gone, the absence is noticeable, the flat suddenly quiet and still as Lancelot drops down beside him and Lily sprawls on the floor at their feet.

Faolan lets out the huff of a laugh at the other man's words, glancing beside him to make sure that Lancelot doesn't actually mean it himself. He's probably had enough to last him a whole year, until next holiday season, he thinks to himself. He shifts to look down at Lily, whose attentions were mostly otherwise occupied thus far this evening. Noting the way Lancelot's rubbing at his face out of the corner of his eye. "It's been a long day," he observes absently, although whether he's commenting on the behavior of the dog or the man or both even he's not quite certain.