It's funny, the last time Lancelot spoke to Finnick had been when he was fighting vampires. The memory surfaces quickly and just as quickly Lancelot buries it, drowns it out and the association.

"So should she," he insists, and Lily lifts he head from the water bowl to regard Lancelot and then Finnick finally. Animals are often nervous around fae, but Lily herself is used to the feel of the magic from being with Lancelot. In fact, she has a trace of it around her now too -- although considering they're standing side by side it's probably not that noticeable unless you concentrate. She looks between them a few more times before wagging her tail a little questioningly. Hello, Finnick! Hello! Will you be friends with her?

"You look about how I feel," he says finally, and his lips flick up in a half-smile. Tired, drained, far more interested in laying down and ignoring life.