Anduin had examined Prince Haiva upon the sudden appearance of this new and mysterious symptom. He had expected the feeling of blades the prince had described to be something of the nerves perhaps, and thus entirely taken aback when there did appear to be actual cuts on the bottoms of his feet. He could have sworn he had almost felt something sharp protruding from the prince's ankle, there and gone again from the light press of his fingertip.

He supposes it is comforting to hear that at least there has been something like this which has happened before, even if in legend. He's willing to try anything at this point, if at least to give the prince a modicum of relief. Of course the cure would stem from a rare flower which grows only deep within the frozen forests surrounding the fortress. It almost feels as though he is back in Azeroth again.

Anduin tightens his jacket around himself, glancing aside to study Wrathion as he crunches along beside him. Despite the pair of them sharing living quarters (if it could really be called as much), with his time dedicated to healing in the Ward -- and the Towers, and with the Prince... -- and Wrathion's own assignment and investigations, they have had little time together their whole stay in Alem.

"I would say that it is good to get out of that mountain, and yet." He gestures to the frozen forest around them. It is not a welcoming place.