The swaying is, perhaps, a little much for Wrathion's dignity. It feels dangerously close to being rocked like an upset child, and he shoots a hesitant sideways glance toward Anduin as he begins.

"Your cooking repertoire extends to Pandaren food, then?"

Not that he thinks they're likely to find the ingredients here, but good to know should they find themselves somewhere else where they have the time and the ingredients are plentiful. He does miss good Pandaren food, after all.