Wrathion has been doing his best to enjoy the surroundings here, but so far they have been far less relaxing than he might like. The hot springs have a headless ghost, the indoor areas have ghosts who like pranks, at night everyone is locked and some more chaotic ghost battles happen outside. There are also rumours of ghosts at night who cause nightmares or some such thing.

All in all, the collection of things going on makes it difficult to relax. Still, he is doing his best. Anduin has, notably, been mentioning his... inability to unwind. Obviously, this requires practice. He is here to practice.

Hermione is also here.

Wrathion has his hair tied up into a somewhat loose bun, a towel looped over one arm and a robe loosely fastened about himself. The wind is cold, and his eyes shoot up toward the sky for a moment as a particularly icy gust hits -- as if he might glower the weather into improving. After a few seconds, they land on the other inhabitant of the springs thoughtfully.

"Hermione," he greets. "I have some tailoring supplies with me from Serthica."

With which to tailor things. Hermione had been experimenting with fashion, last they met. This seems as good a time as any to continue.