It wasn't...quite the same. Onyxia's lair was sweltering, lava and molten rock and smelling of sulphur and flame.
Eventually I'd gotten loose and tucked myself into a crevasse with a sharp rock to defend myself. The cavern was full of her whelps, and she'd given them free reign to eat me if they could catch me. So one after another their little snouts would shove into the crack, furiously snapping away.
All I could think was, if I killed enough of them, if I could hold out until my father arrived...everything would be alright.
You shouldn't have had to go through that a second time. I'm sorry that it happened. [Yeaaaahhhhh, Tim is taking away the wrong lesson from this. Thinking that the only reason Anduin acted like he and that dragon were friends was to protect him. What a noble friend. Putting himself through such a horrible situation and memory just to keep Tim safe. That is the message Tim is taking away from this.]
[It is out of the greatest respect for Anduin and what he's recently been through that keeps Tim from snorting and rolling his eyes. Instead he takes a sip of his beer and counts slowly to five.]
I'm sure he would probably say that. [The prick. He thinks to himself.] I hope he at least apologized to you.
What a great friend. [Said with classic dry British sarcasm.] Even if it was the city messing with his head he still kidnapped you. Regardless of if he was aware of the way it made you think of your past you would think he would still offer you some sort of apology.
[Yeah. Tim knows what that stare is for. He coughs and shifts uncomfortably on the couch.] Ah... yes. [He takes a second to try and look Anduin in the eye.] I am sorry for what I said. [Kind of.] It's just-- when you said this was something the city had done-- [He wets his lips and shakes his head. No, excuses and his reasoning why is not what Anduin needs right now.] Doesn't matter anymore. I'm sorry. [Only kind of.]
I was concerned you hadn't considered that possibility before sending your only help away. If the city had changed the way a friend of mine acts I'm not sure I would be thinking about that. I would be too focused on them.
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Perhaps you could also make a guess at what her lair happened to be.
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It wasn't...quite the same. Onyxia's lair was sweltering, lava and molten rock and smelling of sulphur and flame.
Eventually I'd gotten loose and tucked myself into a crevasse with a sharp rock to defend myself. The cavern was full of her whelps, and she'd given them free reign to eat me if they could catch me. So one after another their little snouts would shove into the crack, furiously snapping away.
All I could think was, if I killed enough of them, if I could hold out until my father arrived...everything would be alright.
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I think it was spite, more than bravery, to be honest.
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...I had nightmares of that cave for years after. The thought of ever being that close to a black dragon again was terrifying.
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[ Another sigh escapes him, this time more frustrated, one hand lifting to pinch at the bridge of his nose.
Maybe this was a mistake. ]
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As I said, the memories of what happened clung to me for years. I was afraid of them. I certainly didn't trust them. I had good reason not to.
[ All this to lend weight to the next statement: ]
I trust Wrathion.
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Not for the sake of my approval. Light knows he's never needed it before.
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If you asked him what our friendship has earned him, I'm fairly certain 'a headache' would top the list, if anything.
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I'm sure he would probably say that. [The prick. He thinks to himself.] I hope he at least apologized to you.
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No. And I don't expect one.
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[ Stare. Sip. ]
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[ He lowers the bottle, straightening as he sits, and looking a little more composed than before. ]
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