Yes. Exactly. I'll have to write down my impressions later, or it will fade and I won't be able to recall it at all. That's happened before— oh—

[ It's like he triggered the fading of the ghosts by talking about the memory. Right on cue, his younger self charges into the mist and vanishes, and when he looks back at the shape where his father was, there's only fog swirling innocently, shapeless.

Flynn's lips part, silent for a heartbeat longer. ]

...I suppose that's... it.

[ Strange, the wash of feeling like loneliness he has to fight down. He clears his throat, makes himself focus. Don't get distracted, Flynn. ]

Estelle, we should continue on home. I wouldn't want you to catch a chill.