Anduin allows himself a moment to consider this. To consider Wrathion, and the cuff itself. Perhaps appreciating his work had not been the intention of this gift, precisely. But --

"Perhaps, then, when circumstances allow," Anduin says, thoughtfully, "you will indulge me with an original design."

A slow smile creeps across his features. He thinks he might like to be given such a gift. From Wrathion. Made by Wrathion. Especially for him, without the need to disguise it under the trappings of Stormwind's regalia.

"I understand you are quite the craftsman."