The teeth vanished before she could really become afraid of them, and for that she was grateful--Vanyel was apparently aware of himself and the effects he had on others. She appreciated the gesture; she found the faint flood of gratitude almost confusing, like she didn't know what to do with it. It was... nice, though.

His farewell was far more eloquent than hers--uneventful travels, easy destinations--and she offered a "Thank you... y-you too," to that, her childish tongue stumbling over the words in her haste to sound polite.

She sat back, as he left, a little overwhelmed.

There was... happiness, that she'd met someone so friendly. Interest at the way that he'd departed--lithe grace and a wingbeat that jolted her back into the bushes. So, a little startlement, too, almost fear. Nervousness at having had an encounter, so strong that only now did she feel the adrenaline wearing down, the weariness eating at her bones, demanding rest. Not only because he'd looked like a predator, either. The mere interaction had been draining.

Was it because it was so new to her? Or would it always be like this? The very idea frightened her.

But... overall, she thought, the experience had been good.

After Vanyel had gone, the little white rabbit hopped back out, taking a final cursory sniff and lick over the mango-fruit--as if to really remember it--and then vanished into the underbrush.

She'd find a hidden place to sleep-... she felt as though she were dropping. And then, maybe, some day, she might meet Vanyel again. She wasn't sure if she were pleased or frightened by the prospect, but... she would hold true to her promise of trying to find something as a gift for him.