Ah. Wrathion considers that, expression softening.

"I don't see why not," he allows. In fact, he'd like that very much -- but no need to overplay matters. Wrathion lifts a hand to rub warm water over his face and neck again, then casually drapes an arm along the back of the rock wall behind Anduin. This, he realises quickly, is likely a mistake given the gusts of cold air -- but he's committed now.

"You might hire an armed guard to stare at me while we play, if we desire to fully revitalise the mood."

He remembers that part quite well.