The trees grew taller, and deep reds began to bleed through. Flair certainly looked to belong in this place, and it was by keeping his focus on her that Chan was able to wade through the memories and subsequent emotions that threatened to flood him. They weren't all bad, his thoughts and reflections on returning, and it certainly wasn't as painful as he'd feared it might be. Rather than being overwhelmed with anxiety and a deep sense of displacement as anticipated, he just felt sad. A deep, blue sad, but one that his closest friend mitigated merely with the warmth of her presence. It was a balance, it was grounding, and it felt far less like running away than when they'd departed from the Cove.
The markers were clear, telling Chan right where to halt. The sun had just risen, lighting up the snowy forest while birds sang good morning. A beautiful place with a calm, inviting ambience. They certainly had chosen well, and if he hadn't come here with Flair he might have wondered if he really had any right at all to be here without having helped work for it.
As things were, he could only feel grateful in this moment. Chan tipped back his head and howled for Jethro.