Faolan glances over at Lily, where she seems to have perked up slightly from whatever mood he had put her in this morning, and inclines his head in turn. "I'll be better for having you there with me, whatever the result," he admits, quietly. A truth he probably would not have let himself admit to before, but now? Well, now Lancelot knows. Why not be honest, at least as much as he can allow himself to be.

"Better leave Lily home though," he agrees. "I don't think she'd like my flat very much anyway." Maybe his guitar. She might even sniff it out from where he'd stashed it under his bed since bringing it to Lancelot's flat while he'd been away. But there's hardly anything interesting there, and certainly not interesting for dogs.