It's one benefit to being on the run. Oh, he'd had his bodyguards, Wrathion had, but even Left and Right couldn't do everything for him. If they were doing odd jobs, they weren't guarding him. And while it was easy to hide a fat little dragon whelp in places people likely would not notice, it was more difficult the larger he grew. And grow he had. Now, Wrathion was utterly unable to hide in his dragon form.
Sure, there was the Visage, but even that only went so far, when people knew what you looked like. As they had on Azeroth. And so he was reduced to...
Camping rough. Hunting (or fighting) for his own food (or to share). Just...running, staying away from populated settlements. And here, there were no bodyguards. Not for him. Not for Anduin, either, though Wrathion knew well that the young king had talent at slipping away from those meant to shadow him, as well.
"I do think I've enough for a room. For both of us. Of course, it might only be for the night, but it's better than nothing, and I can try again tomorrow." There might be a slight hint of pride in his voice, but it's stung by the fact that he can smell himself, and that rankles.
"I also need a bath," he admits. "I offend myself." To say nothing of Anduin, though they are near the shipyards, and there are likely fishing trawlers nearby that offer up their wares. So long as Wrathion stands downwind, it might not be too bad.
The dragon's expression brightens a little as Anduin admits that he'd eaten. "Well, we both weren't unsuccessful, then! That's good. Maybe we can both have a bath and a bed, then, eh?" And in the morning, breakfast.
He was going to look on the bright side, at least for now. Things could definitely be worse. It wasn't that he'd forgotten the conversation he'd had with Anduin. Could he? No. Simply that there seemed to be more pressing matters, to him. Best to attend to those, first.
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Sure, there was the Visage, but even that only went so far, when people knew what you looked like. As they had on Azeroth. And so he was reduced to...
Camping rough. Hunting (or fighting) for his own food (or to share). Just...running, staying away from populated settlements. And here, there were no bodyguards. Not for him. Not for Anduin, either, though Wrathion knew well that the young king had talent at slipping away from those meant to shadow him, as well.
"I do think I've enough for a room. For both of us. Of course, it might only be for the night, but it's better than nothing, and I can try again tomorrow." There might be a slight hint of pride in his voice, but it's stung by the fact that he can smell himself, and that rankles.
"I also need a bath," he admits. "I offend myself." To say nothing of Anduin, though they are near the shipyards, and there are likely fishing trawlers nearby that offer up their wares. So long as Wrathion stands downwind, it might not be too bad.
The dragon's expression brightens a little as Anduin admits that he'd eaten. "Well, we both weren't unsuccessful, then! That's good. Maybe we can both have a bath and a bed, then, eh?" And in the morning, breakfast.
He was going to look on the bright side, at least for now. Things could definitely be worse. It wasn't that he'd forgotten the conversation he'd had with Anduin. Could he? No. Simply that there seemed to be more pressing matters, to him. Best to attend to those, first.