The Once-ler hears someone coming, but he doesn't look up until they're much closer. It's nice out and he's comfortable there. He actually stands out really easily against everything around him as well - his weathered green suit is gone and he's back in his grey clothes (his "pioneer" clothes, according to that Oregon trail event) since that's what he had in his cottage-tent to work with. Against the green grass and the bright Truffula trees, he sticks out by being drab in comparison.

When he hears it's Regina though, he finally pushes himself up on his palms to sit up, and then readjusts his hat once he's upright. Of all the people who could have turned up, he's glad it's her and not someone to whom he has to explain the awful things he's done. He's not sure he could take starting over from the beginning right now. Besides, he's actually glad to be able to show it to someone. That's not something he would ever be able to do without this event.

"Yeah, it really is," he says, smiling. Then he spreads his arms wide and over-dramatically. "Welcome to the Truffula Valley!"

It really is magnificent. It seems to go on forever, and maybe in the Once-ler's memory it really does. The grass is soft and everything is colorful and beautiful. Even the air has a slightly sweet scent - the combined butterfly-milk-like scent of all the Truffula trees. He spends so much time thinking about this place every day that the memory is crystal-clear, like stepping into the past.

"Yep," he adds, self-deprecation creeping back in. "This place was definitely nice before I went and wrecked everything in sight."