Faolan lets out the huff of a breath that suggests he thinks that Jean-Claude owes him much more than just a new shirt, but he doesn't speak up to say as much. Instead watching the other man remove the thing slowly and then setting about assessing his wounds now that they're better exposed. Moving to begin cleaning the worst of them, one of the ones that has already started to bleed again from the movement and the peeling away of the shirt, however gentle.

"What is your history?" he asks instead, glancing up at the other man before back at where his hands are working. "You and that vampire. You know each other. He certainly knew you." Faolan's trying not to make any assumptions. He wants to hear from Lancelot himself. From the other man himself, just what those comments had meant, earlier in the evening.