Wrathion looks up into the sky thoughtfully, studying it.
"The flower you seek is said to grow along the river, I believe. I think it should be this way."
His eyes drop down then around to Anduin, brow furrowing in thought. He gives a brief nod, begins to move again slowly. Frozen leaves and branches snap under his boots, seeming loud in the stillness of the forest.
"I've been thinking about your patient." The prince, that is. Blond, pale, weak, peace-loving, easy to understimate. "The more I hear, the more I believe he is deceiving us."
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Wrathion looks up into the sky thoughtfully, studying it.
"The flower you seek is said to grow along the river, I believe. I think it should be this way."
His eyes drop down then around to Anduin, brow furrowing in thought. He gives a brief nod, begins to move again slowly. Frozen leaves and branches snap under his boots, seeming loud in the stillness of the forest.
"I've been thinking about your patient." The prince, that is. Blond, pale, weak, peace-loving, easy to understimate. "The more I hear, the more I believe he is deceiving us."