"Yes, but. I don't really like yoghurt," Faolan answers awkwardly, huddling in place as he watches the other man from across the way. He looks down at the packet in his hands before starting to pry it open to get one of the tablets out. Peanut butter sounds better, in his opinion. And his stomach isn't bothering him that much. He isn't sure that whatever discomfort he's feeling internally isn't just nerves after the stunt he'd pulled the night before, but he swallows the tablet regardless just in case.

He takes another few sips of the vitamin water, feeling very small as he sits there, cross-legged on the futon, wrapped up in the blanket and watching the other man. Not exactly like a child per se, but the analogy isn't far off. He wonders vaguely whether he should be apologizing to him. He recalls somewhat having done so last night, but he's not sure he has enough words to over his errors. So he stays quiet for the moment at least.