[That's exactly the effect Perona wanted. And while in this animalistic mindset she didn't expect it to happen, she's glad for it. He's down, he's unarmed, he's weakened. She forces every ounce of strength into her arms to pull her forward, hissing against the pain in her injured leg, but it's only a minor deterrent. Her thirst is a far more powerful desire - pain and injury is not an obstacle when prey is right there, powerless now.
It takes her a few seconds, but eventually Perona manages to crawl her way toward Vash. She grips his clothes feverishly, grip tight as a vice, and pulls him down toward her. This is it, she can finally get a precious few drops of blood. Breathing hard from the exertion that she went through just to get to this point, she focuses her gaze on the male's neck. Swallowing just once reminds her yet again of how dry and pained her throat feels, and she wastes no time in pressing herself against Vash, mouth on his neck and fangs digging into his skin. She's none too gentle about the puncture, either, nor is she about the actual feast. Every draw of his blood she takes is long, hard and swift.
The blood calms her down, though. It appeases the monster, and her eyes close as she drinks deeply. The ghosts disperse into nothing, no longer of any use to their master, and the night is calm and quiet. At last...at last she's gotten what she wanted. She always does. On way or another Perona always gets what she wants.
[Action]
It takes her a few seconds, but eventually Perona manages to crawl her way toward Vash. She grips his clothes feverishly, grip tight as a vice, and pulls him down toward her. This is it, she can finally get a precious few drops of blood. Breathing hard from the exertion that she went through just to get to this point, she focuses her gaze on the male's neck. Swallowing just once reminds her yet again of how dry and pained her throat feels, and she wastes no time in pressing herself against Vash, mouth on his neck and fangs digging into his skin. She's none too gentle about the puncture, either, nor is she about the actual feast. Every draw of his blood she takes is long, hard and swift.
The blood calms her down, though. It appeases the monster, and her eyes close as she drinks deeply. The ghosts disperse into nothing, no longer of any use to their master, and the night is calm and quiet. At last...at last she's gotten what she wanted. She always does. On way or another Perona always gets what she wants.
Always.]