Anduin cocks his head to the side slightly at the brush of Wrathion's hand, a smile pulling at his lips as he does.

"Yes," he replies, brandishing the comb back to Wrathion with his other hand with something of a flourish. "I am. Thank you. For allowing me the privilege." His eyes sparkle with mischief as he repeats Wrathion's words back at him -- but he truly had enjoyed himself. And Wrathion's hair. He will always enjoy those curls. He squeezes his fingers on Wrathion's to gentle his tease as he continues, "I didn't hear any yelling. I take it that was a good sign?"

That he hadn't been pulling too hard. That he hadn't been awful at that after all. He'd joked, but he had been a little bit worried.