Faolan shrugs slightly, uncertain what the response means exactly, save for apparently he has suggested something apparently far-fetched. It isn't all that far-fetched, is it? Lancelot likes cooking. He likes his dog. Why wouldn't he like cooking for his dog? Crazy dog people do that sort of thing all the time. He's honestly rather surprised Lancelot doesn't.

"Well... Yeah," he replies. "Well, I suppose cooking in general, but. You know. Biscuits...? Are generally baked...?"