Lambert subscribes entirely to the school of 'make a joke about it and pretend you're over it,' so he isn't about to question Strange on that.

"Lucky thing Portland you turned out to be a pretty incompetent killer, huh?" He says, picking up another apple. This time, he's cutting it roughly into slices, with the intent of making himself some apple-cheese sandwiches to munch on. Really, he should get something more substantial, but the idea of confronting anyone else in the cookhouse is exhausting.

"I think I ate a couple of birds when I was a cat. But ... that happened months before we showed up, so that probably never really happened." Most of the things that didn't actually happen in the month they were there are fading in his mind like washed out paintings, growing harder and harder to remember. "Mostly I can't believe I ever thought I had sisters."