"I've done it before," Lambert reassures, though it's not really all that reassuring. "Always turns out edible."

Then again, considering who's talking, 'edible' might not be the best gauge of anything. Sure enough, as the fire keeps going, the unmistakably unpleasant smell of scorched fish starts to fill the air, and Lambert extinguishes the fire with another quick gesture.

"See?" And he'll hold up a fish on a stick, only to have to quickly catch it with his fingers (ouch, but he doesn't do more than grimace) to keep it from falling right off. It's mostly charred, and he picks at it desultorily with a finger, trying to find any trace of white meat.

"... Might have overdone it. Next ones should turn out better--" And he's reaching for the others, abject failure apparently no reason not to try again.