"Cut off a piece and it grows back, like a potato hydra," says Leon, idly answering the rhetorical either because he didn't notice or because he just really wanted to say 'potato hydra'. "Unless you mean like, how how. That's god stuff. Way above my pay grade."

And again, the notion of miracles just being things that happen and not stories you tell the kids or metaphors for something or other is really fucking with him. It feels like it should be comforting to have confirmation that there is a higher power or higher powers actually looking out for them, even if it's just in this weird place, but something about that gives Leon a gnawing feeling of unease that he can't quite define. But it is what it is, and he's gonna have to learn to deal with it somehow.

"Yeah. Can't help you there, I haven't asked about prayers yet, but thankfully I get the impression that none of them are all wrath and hellfire about stuff."

Contributes a lot to the general atmosphere of acceptance in town that the local pantheon isn't too fussed about rules and structure in day to day life unless you want to be fussed about it, by Leon's figuring.