[Leonardo listens, all but sitting on the edge of his seat; hooked on every word the man speaks. To learn of a new people—no matter how segmented for the situation at hand—is endlessly fascinating to him, and has the blond's mind racing.

It's all enough, for possibly the first time in Leonardo's life, to silence him. If only for a few moments anyway. Torn between wanting to write all this down and ask about the Mother Spirit and how the clan mother speaks with spirits, other thoughts push past them when he starts making connections. The drawing falls to the table, hands busying with petting Cesare again.

Ratonhnhaké:ton was no longer in possession of his people's relic, both thankfully and not, and...] Wait, wait, wait— [Shaking his head, Leonardo takes a quick breath.] You were in America, with your Piece of Eden, and suddenly you were in Venezia, in.... "this time"? [The gears were turning in his head, spinning up from the previous deluge. The process is clear on his face, but it really only leaves him with more questions than solid answers.

Which is why he sounds skeptically perplexed when he asks:] What did you mean earlier, when you said 300 years?