Wrathion snorts at Emilia's question, dismissive. It is an excellent point, after all. Why withhold help? Why put clauses and conditions around it?
Why try to have him killed, for that matter?
"We should not linger here," he says finally, "ghosts of the past cannot help us."
"So you choose to go it alone once more. Like father like son, always keeping things to yourself. Doing things your own way. How many more lives will you risk, Wrathion? How many will you see cut down in the pursuit of your own ego?"
"Ignore her," he grits out, "there must be a way out of this room --"
"So many have died by your hand, by your own recklessness. Your own family. Will these young dragons be next, Wrathion?"
He turns the rest of the way, sharply, trying to pull himself clear of Emilia's grip.
"How dare you --"
"You are out of control," Alexstrasza says, her voice taking on a resonant edge. "I have offered you my hand, and you reject it. Very well, but I will not let you continue this way."
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Why try to have him killed, for that matter?
"We should not linger here," he says finally, "ghosts of the past cannot help us."
"So you choose to go it alone once more. Like father like son, always keeping things to yourself. Doing things your own way. How many more lives will you risk, Wrathion? How many will you see cut down in the pursuit of your own ego?"
"Ignore her," he grits out, "there must be a way out of this room --"
"So many have died by your hand, by your own recklessness. Your own family. Will these young dragons be next, Wrathion?"
He turns the rest of the way, sharply, trying to pull himself clear of Emilia's grip.
"How dare you --"
"You are out of control," Alexstrasza says, her voice taking on a resonant edge. "I have offered you my hand, and you reject it. Very well, but I will not let you continue this way."