westwhere | [ CLOSED ] Twisting, constricted

He pushes his face into the touch gently, as gently as he can manage at any rate -- being this large the slightest motion is... exaggerated compared to Anduin's strength.

"I was chased," Wrathion admits, "by the creatures outside these cave."

The ones Anduin stepped over to get inside. Quite obviously, given their state, he won the encounter in the ender.

The dragon's scales are warm underneath his touch. He supposes this should not be much of a surprise either, all things considered, but -- with the cool air of the cave, and Wrathion's dark coloring...

Anduin rubs his hand over Wrathion's nose and up the line of his brow, uncertain where to turn his attention first. He has a number of questions, a number of concerns, but the sight of him -- it takes his breath away.

This, this is Wrathion's true form. Anduin understands that he may not be fully grown, but that does not lessen the impact. He is already much larger than even Reverence, and to understand that he still has quite a lot of growing left to do...

The thought of him in such danger, though. It brings Anduin back to the present and the ball of anxiety formed in the pit of his stomach.

"You are injured," he says, frowning softly. Anduin has seen the corpses of the creatures outside. How fierce a battle had it been? How close...

"Their goal was to slow me down, not kill me."

A reassurance in some ways, yet not in others. None of his injuries are life-threatening, but that is because Wrathion is more valuable alive and captured than he is dead. He nudges Anduin a little, turns to move further back into the cave.

"It is safer away from the entrance."

Where passing creatures on patrol may be less likely to see them.

Anduin glances away for a moment, towards the mouth of the cave. He knows that Wrathion is right, it is safer further inside, and he will feel better being further away from even the corpses of those creatures. And yet...

If he is honest with himself, he can't say he isn't a little hesitant as well, given how things had gone the last time he'd been in a cave with a black dragon. But he knows that Wrathion is not Onyxia. Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself and turns back to the dragon, hiking his pack higher on his shoulder and stepping after him with a nod.

"You should let me take a look at those injuries for you," he says, gently. As if he does not intend to do so, no matter what Wrathion says.

Wrathion studies Anduin in thought, the way he paused, but he cannot quite discern what he might be thinking. Concern more may come in?

"They avoid darker places," he offers, "they should not pursue us in here."

He hopes. Slinking back further into the cave he settles himself closer to the back, his bag discarded to one side. The cave has little else, he left in something of a hurry. His scales scrape against the stone as he moves, wings and tail sliding with each step and claws clacking softly along the ground. Finding himself a suitable spot, he lowers himself down and spreads out his wings a little more and looks up at Anduin. Expressions are harder to read on a face with less fine muscle movement, but the way he rests his head down and half-lids his eyes is he hopes enough to communicate what he wants.

He is still Wrathion, even in this shape. Anduin has all the same rights over him that he does in his other shape, including manipulating him to inspect and heal him.

Anduin watches as Wrathion settles himself down. It is harder to tell what he is thinking, without being able to read his expression, but he can read his body language and this seems something more of a submissive posture. To Anduin himself, at any rate.

He steps forward, moving to set his pack down nearby before moving closer, reaching a hand back out to Wrathion himself. Running careful fingers over the scales of one large shoulder, frowning at the more injuries he spots. He feels -- uncomfortable, here in the darkness and dampness of the cave. But this at least is what he knows. This, at least, he can do something about.

"I don't know that I have ever healed anyone quite this big, before," Anduin muses, trying to lighten his own mood, as much as anything.

"I would be surprised if you had."

He turns his head as Anduin touches at his shoulder, gently bumping him with his snout.

"You are nervous."

What is the cause? There are many potential options, but Wrathion cannot pin down which in this exact moment it is.

Anduin flicks a smile at the way Wrathion nudges at him, glancing down to meet his eye as he does. It's... A little strange, to be sure, but they are Wrathion's eyes. In a different face, in a different form, but -- as odd as it sounds, he can see him in them, and it does make him feel better.

He thinks about brushing it off as nothing. He does not want to trouble his companion or make him feel uncomfortable. But it would do them both much better if he were to be honest -- with Wrathion, and with himself.

"I... Do not have many positive experiences in such places," Anduin explains softly. "Caves. Not since I was kidnapped and held hostage in one, as a child."

Ahh, yes of course.

"By a dragon," he fills in.

After all, no doubt it is no just the cave that troubles Anduin. A cave is a cave, but a cave with a dragon in it is a more specific memory trigger. He makes a low rumbling sound of understanding, drops his head to rest on the cold stone floor.

"I will not harm you."

"...by a dragon," Anduin agrees, softly. "But she is gone now. And you are not her."

Stepping forward, he reaches out to place a gentle hand on the crest of Wrathion's brow, stroking his head as he might run his fingers through his hair -- in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture. He certainly means for it to be one.

"You are kind," he says. "And gentle. You care for me, as I care for you. I have trusted you with my life, and I still do. I would have you know that."

He gives Wrathion a moment to process this before he continues, "Now let me fix this for you. Are you ready?"

He never would have thought of himself as kind or gentle, but it is true he cares for Anduin. It is true he would never harm him, would protect him, has held him in his arms just to feel the reassuring weight of his body leaned against his own.

"... I am ready," he allows, and pre-emptively tenses himself -- lets his eyes slide closed as he waits for the rush of Light to burn its way over his injuries.

Anduin nods himself, even if the dragon cannot see him now with his eyes closed. He gives Wrathion's brow one more stroke of his hand before he takes a step back, bracing himself for the spell that is to come. Where he usually focuses his healing where the injuries are if he can, Wrathion's wounds are all over his body and -- well. This is going to need a more powerful spell in general, he thinks.

Murmuring a soft prayer to the Light, he channels it forth into his body. He can feel it build and swell within himself, before he holds his hands out toward his companion, funneling it forth into Wrathion himself. Around Wrathion. A halo of white-hot healing Light.

His breathing picks up as the Light burns over his injuries, close them and soothes the evidence away. There's always a rush of adrenaline with being healed, and it's no different for being in his true shape. He shivers as the warmth eases away his tension, as the sear gives way to a feeling of contentment.

Wrathion waits until he can feel the spell has begun to fade, opens his eyes and turns to nudge Anduin closer into his side. It's the closest thing he can do, in this shape, to leaning into him and holding him.

"... Thank you."

Healing Wrathion in this shape is... More of a drain of mana than healing him in his other shape. But Anduin had expected that, and is thus prepared for the feeling of weakness that follows.

As Wrathion nudges him, with that big dragon nose, Anduin finds himself tipping into his side, reaching out to catch his balance on Wrathion's shoulder and then -- staying there.

"You're welcome," he replies, stroking his hand along the scales on his side, over a patch that has healed. Hesitating a moment, before he slides down to sit, leaning back against Wrathion's shoulder, moving to rest a hand on his -- enormous clawed foot.

"You are... Definitely not the round little whelp I remember anymore," he says, after a moment. "It almost feels wrong, that I still feel the need to protect you, when -- you are probably four times the size of me. Five?" He shakes his head, huffing out the breath of a laugh and splaying his fingers wide over Wrathion's foot, as if to demonstrate the difference.

"I was not round," Wrathion protests.

(He was in fact round, but we're not saying it out loud.)

He shifts his weight, stretches out one wing and folds it down over Anduin like a blanket. The feel of one hand against his foot is pleasant, and he spreads his claws a little as if they might mimic twining fingers together. A silly desire, he thinks, but one he cannot help but feel anyway. It is... pleasant to feel as if his dragon form is not offensive to Anduin in any way, that he is not too frightened of it. That he is willing to sit with him this way, despite all that he has suffered.

Anduin hums softly, making no comment in response to Wrathion's protest. Instead, he slides his hand down to wrap his fingers around one of Wrathion's claws. As far as they will wrap around, anyway. It may not be quite the same as twining their fingers together, or holding hands, but this is nice too, and being able to just -- be together, in whatever form they so choose, and not have to worry about anything for just the moment.

"I distinctly remember you promising to take me flying, once," Anduin says, after a long moment. "To take me to fascinating places where we might have adventures together. I don't suppose that this is... Quite what either of us had in mind, but. Perhaps we shall hold on to that thought, and aspire to it."

"Ah," Wrathion says, and turns to nudge Anduin again -- a gentle huff of warm air blowing at his blond hair. "You are keen to use me as a steed?"

Not that he minds, he did offer, but its fun to ease him about it. Perhaps it may go someway to lightening the unease that Anduin feels, the unease that Wrathion himself still feels on some level.

It would be nice to go flying, just the two of them. It would be nice to fly without being chased, for that matter. To stretch his wings just for the pleasure of it.

Anduin wrinkles his nose slightly, reaching out to gently shove at Wrathion's nose, though in honesty he doesn't mind Wrathion nudging him and the gesture is mostly just for show.

"Ugh," he says, a noise which describes exactly what he thinks of the idea of calling Wrathion a steed. Or Wrathion calling himself one, for that matter. "Please. I'm fairly certain anything falling under such a description would be far better behaved, for one thing."

Better behaved? Better behaved?

"Tamed, you mean. Better tamed. I should hope you don't want me tame."

Surely he would be interested in Wrathion at all if he wanted something tame in his life. He's self-aware enough to know that he is a source of trouble, that he makes life difficult for himself and everyone around him.

Still.

He noses Anduin more gently, an affection touch rather than a push this time.

"When it is safe, I will happily take you flying wherever you wish."

No, he certainly does not wish for a tamed dragon in Wrathion. Anduin shifts the hand that he had used to shove at Wrathion's nose to rub at it instead. Is this right? It will take some time to figure out exactly how to be affectionate with such a large dragon, but he's willing to learn.

"I would like that," Anduin says, softly. "Although you are free to take me anywhere you wish, for that matter." He raises his eyebrows slightly. "Perhaps you might surprise me."

It is nice to consider such things. The future. A future for the pair of them together, after all this is behind them.

He lets out a rumble of contentment, eyes sliding closed at the gentle rub to his nose.

"I'll have to find somewhere worth flying to," he says. So far, he hasn't really been anywhere he'd particularly recommend. Taravast wasn't so bad in the end, but he's aware that it may hold a lair of unease for Anduin specifically who still fears the fallout of his choices. "In the end, the location may not matter as much as the company of course."

He's just saying -- as long as he's with Anduin, things will be tolerable at minimum. Pleasant, potentially.

The rumble is nice. It sort of reminds Anduin of a very deep purr, from a very large cat. So he does it again, rubbing Wrathion's nose as he considers this.

"It is not about the destination, but the journey. Isn't that how the old saying goes?" Anduin asks. The corners of his mouth turn up, and he shifts to lean further back against the dragon's shoulder, petting his nose as he does.

It is comforting, to sit with him here like this. Distracting from the fact that they are in this cave, in hiding from all of the terrible things waiting for them once they leave. He can almost forget about it all, if he doesn't let himself think too hard.

Almost.

"I have been worried," Anduin says, after a long moment's pause. "About you."

Ah.

It's difficult to process an answer to that while being so comfortably tended to. Wrathion shuffles to curl around Anduin a little more, as much as he can in his currently less flexible shape, and considers that.

"I appreciate your concern."

Should he say something else...? What should he say?

"I have missed your company, our nightly chats."

There. Is that right? It's good, he thinks, to reassure the man he hasn't been content out here alone? That he'd much rather they were together?

Edited (Belated typo correction ) 2022-04-20 08:45 (UTC)

Anduin moves to tuck himself further into the curve of Wrathion's shoulder, as the dragon curls around him, his lips quirking up into a smile at his companion's turn of phrase.

Our nightly chats.

"I have missed them as well," Anduin replies, softly. "And our games. I am sorry to say that I left the board behind in my room, where I thought it would be safe. Although perhaps it is for the best, for now."

He moves to place his hand flat on the side of Wrathion's jaw.

"Jihui was not designed with dragons in mind. And. I would not ask for you to change your form just yet. It is good, to be able to get to know you like this as well."

"You do appear to have recovered from your nerves."

His head tilts into the touch, another low rumble of pleasure escaping.

"I would happily trade Jihui for time spent like this."

Time spent having Anduin gently explore his draconic shape, getting himself to a point where he is as familiar with it as Wrathion's visage. Where Wrathion knows the sensation of Anduin's hands over his scales as well as the touch of them against skin.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject