Faolan notices the awkward silence, but he feels too awkward himself, and too under the weather, to really feel like doing much of anything about it. He makes a soft noise of agreement in response to the other man's words and sets about cutting himself more small bites and going through the motions of eating. Not because it isn't good, but because it's definitely taking some effort to force himself to eat around the headache and the slight feeling of nausea hovering just below the surface.

He's so focused on the food and the atmosphere that he almost doesn't register what Lancelot is asking at first. And then almost doesn't believe it when he does. He pauses in his motions, looking across at Lancelot, actually stumped for a moment. Why would he...

"Different?" Now it is his turn to force the other man to explain himself, he thinks with some level of satisfaction.