Faolan shakes his head at the other man after a second, trying to wrap his head around the lot of it and uncertain whether he can or not. It's a lot for him to take in at once, especially when he had assumed failure.

"I need to... Hang this to dry," he says, after a moment. He grabs the dripping shirt and, after a moment's hesitation, steps away from the sink and back into the bedroom. Disappearing into his bathroom to hang the shirt over a towel rack for now to let it drip before shuffling back into the bedroom proper to dig out another shirt to put on. A tshirt this time. Maybe that will help him feel a little less out of place...