Dragons aren't really real. Wrathion snorts at that, a puff of smoke exiting his nostrils at that--but only a puff of smoke with no real ire directed behind it.

"I assure you, I am very real. I suspect, however, the worlds we came from are not the same, and my kind does not exist where you are from."

Though it makes Wrathion pity that world, with no guardians of any sort to take care of it, left on its own to merely make do. Yes, he pitied that world.

"In any case, I do hope this is a dream. For both our sakes. I appreciate your warning, however. Who are you, human?" He's curious enough to inquire further.