Lambert feels the attempted attack glance off his scales, but what's most important now is that he's got a solid grip on Shamshel -- an opportunity he's not about to waste. He bites down harder as she grows blindingly bright, claws gouging at her side as he shakes his head back and forth like a hound worrying at a rabbit, hoping to break at least a few bones.

With a last, mighty toss of his head, blood streaming from his mouth, he flings Shamshel away as hard as he can, over the foliage. He's still blinking spots from his vision, but he'll turn to the sound of Syrlya's voice, ducking down to the Mesmer with a growl.

"Get on." Though he wouldn't quite say 'mission accomplished,' hopefully that's done sufficient damage to keep Shamshel's Honorables distracted for a while.