"Spoken like someone who isn't a faeblood who's been torn open with iron," the witcher returns, grimacing. "He isn't like Ignatius. He's only mortal." He can't remember now if Strange had suffered any significant injuries during Hell, but ... dying as a boar sucked, exceptionally. Lambert thinks he could probably send Childermass off with more mercy than that. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking, trying to solve a problem.

Judging from Lambert's pained expression, it's rather tempting to point out that current evidence points to the dubious veracity of that assessment of Childermass's sensibility, but he doesn't have the energy to protest it. Instead, he shakes his head and finally lets Strange go, wobbling slightly.

"Can't decide if we should call this better or worse than getting the Blue Rose was..."