"Hmm," Faolan says, pensively, ducking his head further in response to the description. He had obviously been fishing. In his defense, Lancelot had called him handsome, and as he sits there at the table, resting his head on his arm like that... Faolan hadn't been able to help himself.

Also, he's five-six, but he doesn't want to make that correction and prove himself shorter than the description the other man had given.

Despite the words otherwise, that's enough compliments in a vague description of himself that Faolan doesn't quite know how to respond to it at first. He takes a moment to pretend to be very interested in stirring the soup in front of him, before shrugging slightly. "Well," he says at last. "Your food is very good. And if you don't mind the company... I'd say it sounds like a win-win sort of scenario to me."