The way that he disappears in a puff of purple and black smoke only to appear again on the girl's opposite side is purely reactionary. She would not wrap her arms around a person as she made for him, but thin air mixed with residual traces of inky black wisps. A teleportation spell.

Emet-Selch looks back at her with a mixture of wariness and yearning. Perhaps it could speak volumes that he is still quietly guarded around them, Tailored by many years of suspicion, confrontation, and countless others who tried to assassinate him with something they concealed on their person.

"Emet-Selch." He corrects before looking off. "I offered to provide you with what tutelage I may, and I will be true to my word." It's a 'your welcome' in so many words. "Your 'thanks' is, however, appreciated."