Faolan shoots the other man a withering look over his shoulder, hunched forward over the edge of the bed as he is. Of course he didn't lick the other man, thank you very much. He hadn't been thinking of the other man as a dog, when he'd been sitting there, running his fingers through his hair. He had been...

Well, it was no matter. He looks down at his hands in his lap again. Where he's going to keep them for the time being, if Lancelot is going to be like that. "Maybe I didn't have to. But here I am all the same." His eyes flick back up to Lancelot, sitting up where he is. It's an improvement, certainly, from anything he'd seen from the other man since his dash towards the bathroom earlier in the day.

"How do you feel?" he asks, the logical thing to do, to take the focus of their conversation off of him having been caught out like that especially.