As the cry sounds anew, Lance pauses to close his eyes, riding out the accompanying feeling with every ounce of meditative reason he can gather. A sickly baby has no business being in the mine-- and even if she were, even if she'd somehow survived, she'd be...
Well. Not a baby.

"It's--" he stammers, stepping forward again, "--it's not natural." He eyes Deron drawing his sword, but doesn't stop him.