Fenris is quiet for a moment, mulling that over. He's never been a fan of the Dalish. They've always felt very holier-than-thou, and their continued purposeful ignorance towards the plight of the city elves has always rubbed him the wrong way. They love eleven kind and their ancient ways, but are uninterested in helping the elves that need the most help- it's very two faced.

Hell, Cyril had ended up into slavery, and a genuine worry for Fenris is that if they should actually find his clan, that they'd turn him away. Damaged goods, tainted by city life. No longer one of them. It's something he hopes won't happen, but his prior experience suggests very much otherwise.

"Hmm. It is good to have meaning in your life. And your survival skills have certainly served us well."

He decides to not comment on the Dalish as much as possible, that's likely the best course of action currently, he thinks.