"Mushira Ahmad," Faolan repeats, watching Lancelot carefully as he steps closer to him and the box and begins poking his way into it. "Human, according to our fae benefactor claims he knew her to be. Who might have done this to her, why they chose her, why they sent her to him..." Faolan shrugs slightly. "That's what we're hoping to find out."

He watches Lancelot's face, sensing his hesitance, his uncertainty around the box. And yes, watching his face pale as he nervously pokes his way into it. He thinks about suggesting that he doesn't need to help after all, not if he doesn't want to, but then they do need all the help they can get. He'll be there though. In case it's too much for the other man. He hopes that will count for something, at least.