Lancelot hesitates a moment, gets up after a moment -- one hand around Bridei's middle under his front legs, holding him steady as he wiggles -- and drags his chair closer.

"Would you like a drink?" he suggests, turning to his cabinet and pulling it open. "You look a little like you could use one." He glances back, flickers a sympathetic smile. "Forgive me if I have intruded in some way, Faolan, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

Bridei wiggles again and Lancelot leans to set him down, lets him skitter back to beside Lady where he proceeds to climb onto her. She tolerates it with exaggerated doggy patience.