Vencross sinks to his knees. "No...Fenris." Darksoul turns, walking over to his nephew. [i]"Who was your friend?"[/i] Vencross looks up, his eyes filled with grief. "The....the closest thing I've ever had to a brother." Darksoul leans down, and turns into his dragonborn form. He picks up his scythe, and sighs in relief when he sees that it's intact. He doesn't looks at either of them. [i]"Do you want him back, nephew?"[/i] He looks at Fernis's ghost, which is starting to form above his body. [i]"Do you [b]want[/b] to come back?"[/i]