Faolan nodded at Lucien's explanation as he traced a bit of wood on the table with his finger. He did have a way of making Faolan feel a bit better about his choice of words. He was a polite lad, which probably had something to do with his up-bringing. Faolan had not been raised with similar values; being from a small farm in the bogs of of "emerald isle" was a disadvantage in polite society. Most heard his accent alone and decided he would be uncouth, rude, and ignorant. He didn't mind that they thought this, and didn't even mind if his words or actions proved them right, he only minded if he owed someone something and did not pay. This included a swift kick in the ass, or payment for some favor they had done him. As far as he was concerned, he and Father Cyril were now at a zero balance, and that was something he could live with.

[color=a36209]"Well, lad,"[/color] he said after a moment, [color=a36209]"you do have a way with words, I'll give ya' that."[/color] He reached for another beignet, not able to let them sit and waste on the table.[color=a36209] "I'm glad the two of you could come to an agreement,"[/color] he added, mouth half full, [color=a36209]"But it doesn't seem like you would have listened if he said no."[/color] The determination in Lucien's face and voice during their conversation had been plain to see. He was not ready for priesthood, and Faolan doubted he ever would be.