[ It's not his fault everyone else in the house is short.

And it certainly isn't Gray's fault for spilling the beans either, even if he knows Dokja isn't the type to place blame for something like that so easily. ]

I asked her.

[ How could he not, when things had been so disjointed when he'd arrived back? It's always been in his nature to do his research and scrouge for every last scrap of information relevant to his situation and any immediate future paths he might take. If Gray hadn't told him then he would have found out from someone else.

Even if, as Dokja says, there's nothing to be done about things as they stand.

He certainly isn't happy about having to nudge the answers out now, but at least his expression doesn't look any more sour than usual. They're two adults, having a civil conversation, and the somber set of his lips and even tone of voice attest to his willingness to listen rather than argue. ]

Next time something happens, just tell me. I'm going to worry either way.

[ That's just how friendship works, as he's quickly come to learn. People worry regardless, whether the weather is fair or gloomy, whether or not there's anything that can be done. ]

What happened? [ The nitty-gritty of everything that'd passed. ] Gray didn't know the details.