Anduin smiles as he shifts the comb in his hands, considering his next move. He feels more than a little self-conscious of his actions -- what if he's terrible at this? Can a person be terrible at this? It's not as though he's ever attended a person before, though. He's always been the one being attended to. Still...
It can't be that hard, can it? He's brushed his own hair before. And he can remember having to sit still as Wyll had brushed it for him in turn. It isn't exactly the feeling he's going for, with the gesture, but the memory brings warmth to him, and the courage to reach forward. Running his fingers through Wrathion's curls to start, he separates out a section of his hair and hesitantly begins combing out the ends of it first.
"...I've never done this for anyone but myself," he says, talking for the sake of breaking his own nervous silence. "I won't be offended if you tell me that I'm doing it wrong."
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It can't be that hard, can it? He's brushed his own hair before. And he can remember having to sit still as Wyll had brushed it for him in turn. It isn't exactly the feeling he's going for, with the gesture, but the memory brings warmth to him, and the courage to reach forward. Running his fingers through Wrathion's curls to start, he separates out a section of his hair and hesitantly begins combing out the ends of it first.
"...I've never done this for anyone but myself," he says, talking for the sake of breaking his own nervous silence. "I won't be offended if you tell me that I'm doing it wrong."