Reading from where he's sitting has given him the unique novelty of seeing all of their words neatly framed by their own horns. As Lemm feels a now-familiar vitriol rear its head, those horns are a useful reminder in the edges of his sights that this is not his topic to be sour about. At least not at the forefront. Maybe he's allowed a reasonable amount of sourness if it stays in support of theirs.

"Aye, not a word you've given is out of turn, I'd think." Yes, that came out rather smoothly, considering. (It's not wise to wage words against gods especially if you're not one, but this is not why he bit his tongue. He shouldn't be taking the space their anger ought to occupy. Among other things. He wants to rail on their behalf but it's not his place.) He moves stiffly on, hoping his agreement is enough.

"Ah..." An arm snakes awkwardly past their side to tap a fingertip at the page. "Greenhouses..." He frowns. "Not for sunlight, not down here. Humidity, or maybe for show... I'm getting carried away already," he realises, and backpedals a notch. "I'd like to see it all, that's the problem. Can't appraise a thing from down here. Even the flowers sound a sight."

...Sigh.

"Sorry. Not fishing to have you take me there, just... living vicariously. Don't mind it, will you? Go on. Anything else?"