Anduin's gaze falls to the sand by their feet as Wrathion speaks. He is right, of course. And if Anduin had been in a similar position, agreeing to such an arms deal with the enemy would not be the way that he would choose to resolve such a situation, no matter what.

But he is not the leader here, and in the end...

Anduin moves to cross his arms across his chest. Normally a defensive posture on others, it feels a little as though he is curling in on himself.

"Do we know who he is?" Anduin says, at last. "He calls himself the Merchant but do we know what true business he has collecting us otherworlders? Shepherding us across the land?" Anduin's frown grows deeper, harder. "I cannot help but feel as though... We are but an unlimited crop of expendable assets. Pieces on his board. You ask me if I would have done any differently, when the truth of the matter is that I would have done nothing at all, if that man had not come to me -- me, Wrathion -- with such an ask. How could I even have known? And now he brings us here, like it is some sort of punishment."

He turns to look out across the ocean again. "It is as you say. One can only ever do their best with what they have in front of them."