[He's there in moments, and when he steps up next to her, brushes the little Cassel-made token across the door to open it, he briefly flares tin to catch that scent. To listen, to smell, to see what's different.

It unnerves him, but he makes an effort not to show it.

The door opens to a clear tropical island. A lagoon. It resembles, strongly, a sheltered cove where Zane lived, in another life - as a mercreature. It's reassuring that the environment doesn't turn to a red sun and a sky filtered with ash. He's all right with this.]