[Anduin raises an eyebrow at Wrathion, as if to ask whether that was a serious question. He should know that this is not exactly Anduin's scene, after all. Or at least, Anduin assumes he would.
He sets his drink down on the closest table and opens his own hands in invitation. While Wrathion has tea, Anduin's drink is definitely alcoholic and speaks of something that was thrust in his hands, rather than something he had chosen for himself.
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He sets his drink down on the closest table and opens his own hands in invitation. While Wrathion has tea, Anduin's drink is definitely alcoholic and speaks of something that was thrust in his hands, rather than something he had chosen for himself.
Your usual standard.]
I'm certain I will manage.