Susan gasps, eyes wide and bright. She can't look away from the country beyond the door, filled with color and life and --

(peace of the clearing)

--a vibrant, pure joy that seems to imbue the very breeze that tugs at them. She can smell wildflowers, she's sure of it, and green grass and roses and the distant sweetness of honeysuckle.

"Oh, Caspian." She breathes his name on a sigh, drinking in the sight of Aslan's Country. "Oh, it's beautiful."