He glances curiously as she gestures by the cup, then draws his own closer.

"Quite some time now," he admits, "close to a year. I--"

Wrathion is interrupted by the sound of... singing. It's out of tune, and the singers are not quite in time with each other. They also seem a little uncertain of the lyrics. He shoots an irritated look their way, steels himself and takes a sip of his drink. The warmth and sweetness go some way to dulling his desire to do something about it.

The drink is set down, and Wrathion gives a thin smile.

"One of our previous accommodations was in an area suffering a drought. There was a lack of clean water, and the people were dismal. At the time, I thought I would give anything for a decent supply of warm, clean water. I am now beginning to wonder."

Plenty of that here, but at what cost.