"Good." He seemed content with that and eats more of his food. Now, he's far less obvious about keeping an eye on Jacob, but he's still watching him to make sure nothing goes wrong. Three thousand years and he's having trouble dealing with his own brother. The other Enforcers would have a good laugh if they found out something had stumped Cerberus as much as this had.

"It's Thursday, 1741." His voice goes automatically clinical at reciting the day and time. It's something he couldn't help. "What was the date you last remember?"