Vanya rolls her eyes, charmed to pieces by his disregard for his life. The feeling doesn't trouble her. He's immortal. She's got weird, sprawling power she doesn't understand. They're in some pocket dimension where the comings-and-goings of people are mysterious. Ben is gone. In Vanya's estimation, these games are no stranger than anything else -- as long as no one else sees it.

As expected, Vanya does not drop him. Instead, she jerks her chin up and flings him backward a fair distance where she estimates he will land on softer ground, aided by the little piles of fallen, turning leaves.

From the other side of the park, she holds her little arms out at her sides in a shrug, awaiting his assessment, as if to say close enough?