Faolan nods in response to the immediate answer and realizes that yeah, perhaps the request for the drink isn't only because Lancelot's been grossed out by the head. He suddenly remembers back to the last time that Lancelot had demonstrated any sort of involuntary telekinetic response like that, which had happened to occur right before the other man was nearly ill and then almost had passed out. Yeah, maybe it's a better idea to get him sitting down sooner rather than later. He'd already made that mistake the once.

"Sure," he says. "There's a room. This way." He steps forward in an attempt to guide the other man along with him, suddenly much more aware of his hand on his back. And equally intent on keeping it there. At least until he was given reason to believe it unnecessary.