Well, Wrathion... supposes he can do that. He hesitates a second but nods all the same, lowers his eyes and falls into step with Anduin. Looking contemplative, at least, is no challenge. Wrathion's mind is always working, always calculating new variables.
The incense, for example, has the potential to be a problem. He can feel it pulling at him, making his body... slower. He doesn't like it, but can do little more than try not to inhale too much.
The milling priests pay them little attention, the soft background murmurs of prayer every so often the only real sound. As they move through the space, Wrathion spots what looks like stairs downward guarded by two figures. He subtly directs Anduin, and silently hopes that 'walking with intent' will get them straight past.
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Well, Wrathion... supposes he can do that. He hesitates a second but nods all the same, lowers his eyes and falls into step with Anduin. Looking contemplative, at least, is no challenge. Wrathion's mind is always working, always calculating new variables.
The incense, for example, has the potential to be a problem. He can feel it pulling at him, making his body... slower. He doesn't like it, but can do little more than try not to inhale too much.
The milling priests pay them little attention, the soft background murmurs of prayer every so often the only real sound. As they move through the space, Wrathion spots what looks like stairs downward guarded by two figures. He subtly directs Anduin, and silently hopes that 'walking with intent' will get them straight past.