Her first step forward is more like a stumble but whether this is hunger weakness or fear or something else entirely she doesn't wonder too much before reaching out, her fingertips pressing against his arm as she lowers her mouth to the open cut. She can't describe it. Disgusting. Wanted. Hated. And she thinks she's going to spit it all up, to retch everything of the nothing in her stomach but she presses her mouth closed against this impulse and swallows. She has been burned before--remembers being asleep, hiding in that tree when she felt the roar of flames too big to be an accident. But this is like her whole body has caught afire from the inside out, burning through the blood and the skin like a swear and in the midst of it she can feel her teeth bared more than she thinks to do it outright. Again she grapples her way back to herself, another forcible swallow and she worries at some point something is wrong; that she won't know.

Then she feels it, like a blow to her chest almost that makes her dizzy as the burning recedes or exits rather, as if driven out and she drops to her knees. Warmth. A pulse. But her focus is hyper-centered on the taste of her tongue and with the life returning to her it's somehow even worse, darker, despite its antidote qualities. Her throat chokes up and she is quick to turn away, covering her mouth with both hands. She doesn't know if vomiting after changing back would render her as she was but she won't take that chance. Shoulders normally strong, she can feel them shake as she hunches over, now feeling the ordinary hunger of days of refusing normal food but that is much more manageable. A deep breath later she turns slowly to face him, her brow drawn not in worry or confusion, but something perhaps without a word to it just yet. What should she say? She doesn't know, so she simply stands again, carefully, as if suspecting her legs to give out.

"Thanks," she does manage. That seems...right enough. Not right, but she'll take what she can get.