Leonardo collapses onto his knees on the sand, his mind still reeling from the past few seconds. First he came out of his dungeon just long enough to take a breath and see the wearied faces of his rescuers, then the familiar pull of a portal with the unfamiliar pull of another's power controlling it, and now here he is nearly face-first in the sand. He lets out a winded huff, weary and long-suffering, before he slowly rights himself to sitting on his knees.

He slowly dusts off his doublet sleeves of sand, as his eyes glance at all that lays around him. Water, infinite stretches of water, so open and yet so isolating. A hammock and some sort of drink that he will refuse to touch - he does not believe for a second that such hospitality is there for him. "... where is Cynic?" Leonardo finally asks to what appears to be no one. He knows who this island belongs to, and it most certainly belongs to No One.