The Frenchman was much more diligent than even Faolan had realized. He watched from the corner of his eye as Lucien corrected and added to his notes. He wondered what the boy would say if he could see the chicken scratch in his notebook.

He considered the request for a moment, tilting his head, [color=a36209]"Hm...well, I'm not opposed to it, but I haven't really taught anyone anything before."[/color] He had taught his sister how to spit when they were ten and eight, but he didn't exactly count that. [color=a36209]"I can try, but you'll have to do a lot of the asking. I don't really speak Irish often, doubt I'll find anyone who can speak it here."[/color] Thinking about it, it actually didn't sound so bad. Once Lucien mastered the accent, it might be nice to hear the mother tongue on someone else's lips.

At the Frenchman's next question, Faolan felt heat rise in his cheeks. This word in particular was unpleasant to him, for many reasons. It was not easy to upset him in the right circumstances, but certain words could easily draw his ire. 

He made sure he was walking in front of Lucien when he spoke, knowing that his Irish complexion would easily give away his embarrassment. [color=a36209]"That means...uh, well, it isn't a nice thing to say. It refers to a man who prefers other men over women."[/color] His explanation was awkward, but sound. Sexuality was not something Faolan liked to think about, and even when forced, he did his best to keep his mind from wandering.