Jehan looks up at Enjolras--familiar, human Enjolras. Remembers identifying him by the golden luminosity of his soul when he was in dog form. Jehan will never see that soul, or any soul, again. Though of course one might say he's still seeing Enjolras's soul right now. It's visible in the confused earnestness on Enjolras's face, tangible in the comforting hand on his shoulder. Jehan raises a hand to cover his friend's, and smiles faintly.

"It's a hard thing for me to give up," Jehan says, in response to the question he senses from Enjolras. Flight, beauty, song, simply being a phoenix--he's been wrenched away from it now, and it's painful and cold.