Anduin turns his face into his companion's shoulder, allowing himself to settle into the warmth of him.

"I suspect I would be more so, without you here," he replies. "My own personal draconic furnace."

That is not precisely an answer to the question that Wrathion had posed, however. After a moment, he reaches for the edge of one of the blankets and moves to tug it over the pair of them.

"Here," he says. "Let us make ourselves comfortable."