Wrathion squirms to help get his legs under the bedding with Anduin, pulls him close and lets a low, thrumming sound build up in his chest. Its a steady rumble, vibrating through them both as he settles down.

"You'll be grateful if we end up somewhere with snow," he grumbles, and rubs his face into Anduin's hair -- the sensation oddly similar to a large animal rubbing its face against something. That is, essentially, what Wrathion is doing. Its just less effective when you're in a human visage.