Wrathion nods, happy to take point. If he's injured, Anduin can always heal him so long as he keeps the priest alive. It simply makes sense.

If there are other reasons, he's simply ignoring them for now.

He begins to walk, puddles of dark water splashing as he makes his way back past the pool, when something pricks at his senses. Wrathion turns toward the shimmering black water, wary, and his eyes widen -- hand reaching out for Anduin to pull him firmly behind himself as he backs the both of them further away.

"Do you see this?"

It isn't just him, is it? Some product of his desperate mind causing his whirl of dark water to keep insistently taking Anduin's shape? Only he can hear it too, pleading with him. Begging him. Bargaining. We can be together, please.

Wrathion growls, a low, angry warning sound underscored with anxiety.