Anduin does not know whether Wrathion is offering the touch because he wants to, or because he feels as though its something Anduin wants himself. Still... He appreciates the gesture nevertheless, and cannot help but feel himself begin to relax into the slow brush of Wrathion's thumbs against his sleeves.

A mutual victory. It is not a particularly soft reassurance, but now that Anduin is starting to feel as though he can breathe again, he does understand. He... Still cannot help but feel as though Wrathion is punishing himself, in some ways, for his mistakes of the past. Can't help but feel as though, for all his talk of forgiveness, he is not certain whether he deserves it himself yet, and it is holding him back. But he has fought, all this time, so that he might live. He may be reckless at times, but there is no hint at self-destruction, where once he might have thought there'd been.

"I do not mean to quarrel with you," Anduin says at last.