נαє-нα -- яуσкυяуυυ

Though the answer he received was something to be expected, the level of disgust, aversion, that enveloped the green dragon’s being to the point where he almost visibly recoiled--- was absolutely not.

Of course the king loved her. He’d spared her and Hak on more than one occasion, as dangerous for him as it was. It was obvious he treasured the both of them dearly, or he would have had them taken care of in an instant. In fact, it probably wasn’t far-fetched to assume his feelings extended beyond those two... to King Il, himself.

The very man he’d murdered before Yona’s eyes, the father of the one person he exhibited such immense feelings for--- he had most likely loved him, too.

It took all of Jae-Ha’s strength to keep a straight face. He believed he was finally beginning to understand the nature of the circumstances that pushed those two to begin their journey, and all it had taken was a single question asked.

His tone was uncharacteristically cold, yet calm as he spoke next,

Kija; the most recent descendant of the long line of white dragons before him. At first, Jae-Ha had resented his very existence. To him, someone that held his personal freedom so dearly, he couldn’t come close to understanding how this man could stand proud in the face of the dragons’ prophecy; in the wake of his alleged ‘destined fate.’ Was he simply an unknowing slave to his village, the prophecy haven been indoctrinated from the very start?

No.

He’d learned that even someone like Kija had his reasons for choosing to live the way he did. Rather than solving the puzzle in his mind, however, the hakuryuu’s story opened more questions--- and often times, Jae-Ha found himself staring at the other’s closed back in a daze, picturing the jagged scars that ran up his skin.

Such a time was occurring now, with the green dragon snapping to attention as he was called.