Fenris nods, taking this as though it's the information he's requested, rather than a haughty retort. Astarion needs to accumulate himself to the idea. Fenris is readying to kill another blood mage.

A very advanced, very powerful blood mage, but all the same.

"Would he be so careful as to avoid the lyrium?" That, in this world, is still a poison. "He does not know my capabilities. You will tell me his. And his habits. All of it."