[ Watching the horse woman process things and then carefuly select what she half barks, half spats at her general direction is both very interesting and mildly upsetting, Makoto thinks. She's not sure this won't end with her dodging arrows just yet. ]

Then, it's just a rough estimate... but between my idea of the present and yours there's about... one thousand, three hundred years.

[ Give it or take a couple of decades. ]