JW grew very still when Korra started to explain. War was probably his least favorite thing, having grown up in the 60's in perpetual fear of all the stories his Grandfather told him of the draft. A war with spirits sounded even worse.

The snake-man tried to keep the worry from creeping across his face. It was becoming painfully obvious this wasn't just a 'weird guy in some lady's garden' scenario.

"Is--is that right? I guess I'll just...mosey along then?"

He tried to slither away as nonchalantly as possible but since he'd re-situated himself on the rock to better keep an eye on Naga, the weight of his coils wound up making him slip off his podium backwards. JW promptly landed in a heap of scales.