York blinks, and there's absolutely no comprehension in his gaze but he's listening, and he'll remember it, for what that's worth. Ratchet of Tagan Heights, forging from hotspots, sparks and sentient metal. It makes sense within itself, at least. There's a narrative there that he can hold on to.

Is he bothered by it?

"Not... really? I mean. It's a lot to take in and I wish you'd felt like you could tell me, because maybe I could have helped more, but it wasn't about me, so." He shrugs a little. "I don't care that you're not actually human. You're as much of a person as I've ever known either way."