Faolan nods slightly, stepping forward to the refrigerator as prompted to go routing through it for things he might enjoy himself. Eventually locating smoked turkey, lettuce, and mustard. All of which he sets out on the counter before glancing to Lancelot awkwardly. He really can make himself a sandwich and he could have eaten one at home, that's not why he'd made the journey over here and he feels, as he always seems to, strange to have the other man caring for him in such a way. Especially when Faolan's main concern is the other man's health, and his main desire is to care for him instead.

"Do you want anything out of here?" he asks, feeling equally awkward about helping as not however, as though he's invading what is really the other man's space here in the kitchen, searching through the refrigerator. Even despite the fact that he'd actually been invited there this time.