Faolan isn't exactly going to judge her on what's morally right or wrong. There had been a time of his life when he'd done whatever he could for a bit of spare change. Opening up a vein for a vampire or his legs for a stranger were about the only two things he hadn't been willing to do, all things considered. He's certainly done worse than that, though.

"It's nice to know that you'd admit to the pot calling the kettle black," Faolan replies. He enjoys being so frank about such things as well, all things considered. Perhaps the alcohol has losened his tongue as well, but that's neither here nor there.

He glances aside at her, taking in her measure. She is pretty. But Faolan definitely isn't the sort of man to pay for such things. "So how does it work, then?" he asks, before realizing what the question sounds like and backtracking. "Do you find them, or do you wait for them to find you?"