[ the urgency is the same — a desperate, greedy latching on, the same sharp pull of blood dragged through his arteries and veins and into her waiting mouth — but she has a little more sense now, a little bit of awareness as to where she is and what she's doing.
refilling the tank all the way is not on the menu right now. she doesn't want to kill him. she just needs to live. three gulps, three pulls; though she's not being scientific or measuring, it's on average about 100 milliliters or just under a quarter of a pint at a time.
one feeding is one blood bag. she can do that math without thinking. poe might feel a little woozy, but he won't pass out.
unless he freaks out at the sight of his own blood smeared over her mouth when she sits back up. ]
no subject
refilling the tank all the way is not on the menu right now. she doesn't want to kill him. she just needs to live. three gulps, three pulls; though she's not being scientific or measuring, it's on average about 100 milliliters or just under a quarter of a pint at a time.
one feeding is one blood bag. she can do that math without thinking. poe might feel a little woozy, but he won't pass out.
unless he freaks out at the sight of his own blood smeared over her mouth when she sits back up. ]