He's been here just long enough to have a little bit of context as to what on earth that means, casting a sidelong look of cynicism. "As do I," he comments, returning his attention to crumpled pages in his hand, that had both been a help and an irritation. Dialogue about settling in and shedding ones burdens. Lucius has some of those, but apparently couldn't help pick up some new ones. Rather than address its contents after all, it's put back where it was with a thin exhale of a sigh.

"One must adapt, I suppose. I don't think I'd be caught dead, personally."