[Not hard at all to spot, not really. How many humans (who aren't elderly, anyway) have silver hair? Fenris meets him at the entrance, offering him a (slightly awkward) wave and a little nod. He's curious about demons that can disguise themselves as humans, but one thing at a time. He draws back, allowing Dante in. And it's . . .

Quite the mess, frankly. Most of the roof overhead has fallen through; the walls are relatively intact, as are the supports, but the floor has as many tiles cracked and missing as it does intact ones. It's easy to see which rooms Fenris lives in: they're the only ones with any sign of life. Two bedrooms (one looking more like a guest room than anything); another, far homier one, where a fire blazes even now.]

I can take you up to the roof, but it may just be easier to look up.

[God, please help him.]

. . . I— it will take a while. If you wish to reconsider . . .