Faolan turns to glance at the other man, before shaking his head. "No. If you had warned me, it's like I had said before. I might not have come, and you know it," he says, quietly. "Don't worry about me, it was fine. Your friends are..." He trails off, trying to think of the right way to express himself and describe them all at once, but finds that he can't quite. Not easily, anyway.
"They seem like good people," he says at last. "Percival is nice. Gwaine is..." He trails off again, digging for the right words. "Well, he's a character, and he could stand to be a bit less free with his words, but he seemed a decent sort. Even Arthur has his charms," he notes, "even if I did feel like he spent half the time judging me for something or another." He turns his head to look at Lancelot proper. "It's obvious that they all care for you though. For all their eccentricities." And that, more than anything perhaps, is why they can't be all that bad, regardless of the few hangups that Faolan still has here and there.
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"They seem like good people," he says at last. "Percival is nice. Gwaine is..." He trails off again, digging for the right words. "Well, he's a character, and he could stand to be a bit less free with his words, but he seemed a decent sort. Even Arthur has his charms," he notes, "even if I did feel like he spent half the time judging me for something or another." He turns his head to look at Lancelot proper. "It's obvious that they all care for you though. For all their eccentricities." And that, more than anything perhaps, is why they can't be all that bad, regardless of the few hangups that Faolan still has here and there.