Faolan laughs slightly, holding the water away from where Lancelot works, lathering her up with the shampoo. Amused at the suddenly hopeful look she acquires at the mention of a biscuit. "I just might," he agrees, glancing at Lancelot before back down at Lily herself. "Good dogs deserve treats, after all."

He sits back and lets Lancelot handle the shampooing, holding the water away from her with one hand and making certain to keep her from moving about too much with the other. He can feel the water beginning to soak through his jeans, not only from where she had gotten them wet but now from the bottoms up, where it's sloshing around and spreading up the fabric from the cuffs. He's definitely going to need a change of trousers, he thinks to himself. And hopes that Lancelot won't mind too much at that either.