The soft huff of amusement is enough to spur Wrathion on, to make him desire to pull more laughter from the other man. Or, perhaps if not laughter, at least... at least to continue to hold his attention.

As long as he can.

"Perhaps," he murmurs, "when we return, I will make a surprise visit to Stormwind so I can invade one of your balls. Although I don't suppose you'd truly be permitted to dance with me there. It would cause quite the scene."

The High King of the Alliance, dancing with his advisor -- a black dragon. No doubt it would stir up memories.