[At Claude's admission, Wrathion scowls. He'd had a very similar dream, though it was Azeroth that had died. A low, dangerous rumble starts in the dragon's throat. If you thought his hot breath was bad, his heated body is probably no joy to be around, either.

At least you're not chilled any more? Wrathion still doesn't seem inclined to have Claude as a snack, for all of his expressive unhappiness.]

The dream of Azeroth's death felt all too real to me, as well. Should it prove that this is not your world, and the dream was not a dream, you have my condolences, Claude von Riegan.

[Wrathion backs off a few paces, giving him some more breathing room. The growl does not abate, however, even as he swings his head towards the shrine's entrance. His expression is uncertain, however.]

Do you hear something?