He may have simply been overcautious, but Anduin is the one person that Wrathion simply refuses to risk. Not again.
Hopefully, the priest clears out of the way, because mere breaths after Anduin has emerged from the portal, the dragon comes limping his way through. It's not intended to be dramatic, but between having to make a few leaps into the air...Wrathion could be doing better. Still, his first thought is for Anduin as he exits. He swings his head around to search for the priest, moving to the side where Anduin waits. No one else had been waiting to go through, so it wasn't as if there'd been a line, but. He'd always erred on the side of prudence.
Not to mention he really does not want anyone to come barreling through into him. Unpleasant for both Wrathion and that unfortunate individual, whoever they might be.
Wrathion's head comes uncomfortably close to Anduin's chest, and it's likely the priest can feel a subtle pressure as a rumbling growl trickles out of the dragon's mouth. It's an accusatory tone he adopts, crimson eyes narrowing as he gazes at Anduin.
"You're injured, too. I can smell the blood." He is trying not to let the anger overwhem him--anger at himself for letting Anduin out of his sight, anger at the Kenoma who would dare--but he forcibly bites it back. "And what is wrong with your arm?"
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Hopefully, the priest clears out of the way, because mere breaths after Anduin has emerged from the portal, the dragon comes limping his way through. It's not intended to be dramatic, but between having to make a few leaps into the air...Wrathion could be doing better. Still, his first thought is for Anduin as he exits. He swings his head around to search for the priest, moving to the side where Anduin waits. No one else had been waiting to go through, so it wasn't as if there'd been a line, but. He'd always erred on the side of prudence.
Not to mention he really does not want anyone to come barreling through into him. Unpleasant for both Wrathion and that unfortunate individual, whoever they might be.
Wrathion's head comes uncomfortably close to Anduin's chest, and it's likely the priest can feel a subtle pressure as a rumbling growl trickles out of the dragon's mouth. It's an accusatory tone he adopts, crimson eyes narrowing as he gazes at Anduin.
"You're injured, too. I can smell the blood." He is trying not to let the anger overwhem him--anger at himself for letting Anduin out of his sight, anger at the Kenoma who would dare--but he forcibly bites it back. "And what is wrong with your arm?"