Rushing his way down the stairs, the adrenaline and relief of finding Lancelot alive and kicking spurs Faolan faster. For all the calling out that he had done for the other man before now he only wants to be at his side and make certain that he's alright. He supposes in retrospect he should have announced his presence a bit more obviously, as suddenly he finds Lancelot's foot connecting with his lower rib cage. He stumbles back a step, grunting in pain and surprise though he supposes he can't blame the other man, given the state of things.

"Easy," he hisses at the other man. "Lancelot." He hopes that the other man has enough within himself to focus on his voice. Looking at him hanging there by his wrists like that, covered in bruises, bites, blood, and god knows what else, Faolan feels as though he could literally breathe fire. "Just take it easy, I'll get you down..."

He glances at his companions behind him, letting Daryl and then Sirius in turn know that they are definitely in charge of covering his back while he does this before turning to Lancelot again and approaching cautiously. Hoping he doesn't get kicked again. Even as weakened as the other man seems to be, that's going to leave a mark.