[To his great surprise and delight, Fenris takes the question seriously. Atta boy! Although, hm, somehow Harlan hadn't quite considered his situation in those terms. He probably will be here for a while, won't he? Indefinitely, maybe. He does not do well with indefinite anything, let alone life in one form or another. At least when he was properly alive, there was some measure of exit to look forward to. His worst nightmare in some ways was to end up as a ghost, destined to haunt a sole location for years and years until slowly going insane from the burden of immortality. Is this the same idea in a different skin?

Hm. Troubling. Best not to dwell on that until he has a better grasp on this place.]

That's how it should be. Making up for the shit we've done has to be a brutal process, or else what's the fucking point? Cheers to getting our asses kicked for being shitheads in life.

[He steals back the bottle to take another drink, bopping Fenris in the shoulder with it in lieu of separate glasses.]

How many sins are on your list? I've got fourteen.