Lambert really, really hadn't wanted to come back here. It proves to be a particularly terrible idea because the moment he steps back through to the carnival and he ends up somehow in the one patch of snow that's shin-deep.
For the record: bare legs and snow don't go well together. A sentiment Lambert proceeds to express at the top of his lungs with a loud, hollered--
"FUCK!"
--that announces his return. However, he's here with a purpose, which means despite having to clench his teeth against chattering, he's forcing himself to move through the snow and navigate the ice to the lakeside. That does involve having to get through the trailers, though, so anyone who isn't holed up inside (and even those who are) might catch a constant stream of quiet bitching as a horned man in quickly-soggy floral shorts and a tank top slogs through the slush and tries not to slip through ice, trailed by a curious-looking donkey-creature that doesn't seem nearly as bothered by the temperature.
[ ALOLA ]
Once he's satisfied himself that all the snow and ice is nothing more than a spell gone awry and doesn't need anything killed to fix it, Lambert is fucking right back to Alola, good luck everyone else. However, he can't quite shake the chill from his bones.
Clearly, the solution is to warm up. So this means he's dug a pit on one of Alola's beaches, dragged in stray driftwood, and set the whole thing on fire. So yeah, Lambert's right beside a bonfire that is definitely breaking ten different kinds of safety regulation, exhaling in relief as he drops down on the sand next to it.
lambert, and ota!
Lambert really, really hadn't wanted to come back here. It proves to be a particularly terrible idea because the moment he steps back through to the carnival and he ends up somehow in the one patch of snow that's shin-deep.
For the record: bare legs and snow don't go well together. A sentiment Lambert proceeds to express at the top of his lungs with a loud, hollered--
"FUCK!"
--that announces his return. However, he's here with a purpose, which means despite having to clench his teeth against chattering, he's forcing himself to move through the snow and navigate the ice to the lakeside. That does involve having to get through the trailers, though, so anyone who isn't holed up inside (and even those who are) might catch a constant stream of quiet bitching as a horned man in quickly-soggy floral shorts and a tank top slogs through the slush and tries not to slip through ice, trailed by a curious-looking donkey-creature that doesn't seem nearly as bothered by the temperature.
[ ALOLA ]
Once he's satisfied himself that all the snow and ice is nothing more than a spell gone awry and doesn't need anything killed to fix it, Lambert is fucking right back to Alola, good luck everyone else. However, he can't quite shake the chill from his bones.
Clearly, the solution is to warm up. So this means he's dug a pit on one of Alola's beaches, dragged in stray driftwood, and set the whole thing on fire. So yeah, Lambert's right beside a bonfire that is definitely breaking ten different kinds of safety regulation, exhaling in relief as he drops down on the sand next to it.
"That's better."