The stakes were high. There was no denying that. But that was also the type of odds that the dragon approved of. He had opposed his erstwhile 'father', and culled the rest of his corrupted flight simply because he liked things the way they were. What joy was there to be found in the remnants of a charred world?

"There is no telling whether we would be involved in that world as well, no? Subjugated or destroyed. Or who knows what else?" As a dragon, Wrathion cares little for gods, whether they actually exist or not, so he disdains to invoke--or evoke--them. What's the use?

He is perceptive enough to pick up on some of the exhaustion in her mien. He's felt it himself, Wrathion has, when a talented rogue of his acquaintance has been particularly dense, or when he's gotten into an ethical argument with one of his chosen adventurers. There was always a benefit to acquiring talent. The down side was that they tended to be stubborn and strong-willed. What Wrathion likes in himself is an annoyance in others, at times.

"Forgive me for belaboring the point once again. I do appreciate you taking the time to educate me. Knowledge is something I value highly. You have my thanks." Stopping carefully before claiming he might owe her something.