Anduin is more than happy to be tucked in against Wrathion's side. For a start, the dragon is decidedly warmer than the air of the room. For another, it is simply good to be there with him. Good to have Wrathion huffing at him and tucking him in against his side. Anduin is not fool enough to think he may have instantly cured him of the ghosts of the day, but these are all good signs.

Anduin leans his head back more comfortably on Wrathion's shoulder, slowly curling into the heat of his companion and the mug in his hands.

"Ah, forgive me," he replies, his voice full of warmth. "I forgot that dragons managed their own staff."