He blinks as the scarf is draped around his shoulders, then glances about and hesitates.

"... If you don't mind, I think it may help if I dry off... more completely, so I can redress."

He's still wearing the wet shorts he went swimming in, after all. Wrathion retrieves one cold hand, pools a flame into it. This is a touch direct, but its the best he can do now, try and dry out his own clothing over a flame. It wouldn't have been his first choice, but it will work -- which is all that matters in a pinch.