Anduin reaches out to accept the comb from his companion, a bit surprised at his own bravado for offering. A little more surprised that Wrathion had accepted. He's never certain where the line is drawn in the sand, what might be too intimate a gesture for his companion. Then again, Wrathion has allowed him much further than this, in the private setting of their bedchamber...

And then Wrathion continues on. His privilege. Anduin resists the urge to roll his eyes, but only just.

"It is an honor," he says, wryly.