As the last of her sanity and reasoning returned to her at last, so did her better sense. The imagined sense of pursuit vanished, almost as if her pursuer had fled at the sight of this man. She self-consciously brushed a stray lock of hair back over her ear, not quite able to make eye contact. It was embarassing to her that she had let irrational fear grip her so completely, and that it had been seen by this man. He offered his hand to her, but she hesitated. Glancing at it, she chose to instead crouch down to adjust her shoelace. She didn't want to openly refuse his hand by keeping her distance, but she was not so quick to trust as to assume this man was truly harmless. After all, weren't crazy people just as nice as normal people?<br/><br/>As she tied her shoe, she spoke in a light, friendly tone, answering his last question, "I'm not usually this late. I prefer to run at sunset, because of the colors of light cast on the trees. It is the perfect time to jog. Tonight, I let my thoughts wander and wasn't paying attention to how long I was running. Before I knew it, I'd gone very deep into the woods, and it was getting dark. It was strange... but I swear I was being followed. I never actually heard anything... just felt it. Guess I've an over-active imagination today, hmm?"<br/><br/>She rose and took her place beside him, maintaining a polite distance. She thought of this as her personal bubble, as most people did. It was the distance that one kept from another person, still allowing for close conversation between friends, and yet keeping out anything more. With a gesture toward the path back to the parking lot, she smiled and began walking.