Wrathion's eyes drop hesitantly to the hand gripping his jacket, trying to discern meaning from it.

Clever, brave and handsome. These things are all of course true, but... still pleasant to hear. His frown softens a little, and his hands slide away from where they were resting on Anduin's upper arms -- one still laced through Anduin's other hand. He realises belatedly, hesitates then... keeps hold of it, covers the hand so it's gently enveloped between both his own.

His tongue runs over his teeth, and he scrambles for something clever to say.

"Well," he says finally, "as was noted, he had some help along the way."

There.