"Suit yourself, but don't expect any help," Lambert answers, neutrally. He keeps at what he's doing, washing the grime off farm tools. There isn't anything immediately wrong visible with him, save for distinct, rivet-like protrusions along the neck, collarbone, and spine that the bodysuit molds to, and the altered shape of his tail. He's holding himself distinctly stiffly, breathing shallowly, but with a tight control that prevents him from betraying any pain--

The brush against his soul, though? That gets his attention, making his movements pause for a fraction of a second before he gets back to it. But his ears flick in Gongenzaka's direction.