"Asking questions is the best way to learn," Don says, with the air of one who spends plenty of time being Mr. Techno-babble Exposition.

"A god, huh? So do you have a name? And does this little guy?" he asks, smiling and pointing to the puppy.

Donatello frowns, moving to sit cross-legged on the grass with his bo staff across his lap. "I think I might be communicating my point badly. I agree that a weapon is worthy of respect, as all dangerous things are. But the most finely crafted and magical weapon in all the universe is no better than a dull cleaver if it's wielded by someone who doesn't have the skill to use it." He shrugs. "That's what my father taught me anyway. But I've never seen a singing weapon before, either. Are they sentient?"