“What’s the dragon’s name?” Ling asked Kun one day. Kun chuckled, but before he could say anything Jin spoke up.
“Idiot. You don’t name a dragon.”
Ling pat the dragon on the head. No one told him to stop and the dragon appeared to like it, so he kept going. “Why not?”
As usual, Jin was very helpful. Kun looked up from the dragon’s scales as he cleaned them. “There is much power within a name. A type of magic that dragons are more close to than the rest of us.”
Ling frowned. “Don’t dragons get names?”
“Of course they do,” Jin said. “So why give them another one?”
Something about that didn’t seem right to Ling, who thought names were important. “Can you tell us your name?” he asked the dragon.
“Idiot!” Ling winced, almost as though Jin’s words actually slapped him. “You don’t ask a dragon for their name.”
Ling looked over at Kun, who smiled at him. “I don’t doubt that one day the dragon will tell you, Ling.”
Something about that didn’t make sense to Ling, who thought the dragon should tell him now. Or at least Kun.
Then Shui showed up. “Hey guys, I-”
The dragon closed the barn door. Kun stifled a laugh. Even Jin smirked.
“What the hell, man!” Shui shouted from outside.
If there was one person the dragon wouldn’t tell, Ling decided, it was probably Shui.