That Danarius can even counter his blow comes as a frustrating shock. Fenris leans into it with all of his strength, eyes burning with raw, unbridled hatred. It shouldn't be this much of a struggle - the mage was never, ever this physically strong. In all the years he had spent leashed to his side, he could have ended it so, so easily.

But then something flashes - Hawke's voice, piercing through Danarius' sickening mouth. He flinches, heart suddenly in his throat and threatening to choke off his breath.

Fenris bears down once more, gritting his teeth. The eyes distort. A piercing, warm gold like smoldering embers breaking through.

His heart seems to stop, and then he finally breathes again. "...Hawke?"

In an instant, the vision clears. He stumbles backwards several paces, heart pounding and sword dropping to his side. His chest heaves with exertion and a sudden ache as he stares in hard disbelief.

"How do I know it's you?"