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"Yeah…" Pollux sighed, "I guess I'm used to people thinking I'm gonna suck their blood or whatever. Which yeah, I get it. Can't be too careful. But a lot of vampires nowadays try other food sources."
He flipped down his helmet.
"Is here good?"
Rykah shrugged, "I mean, I can see why, but you're also a decent guy. And yeah, Here is good." He said with a soft smile, turning away to head down a nearby trail, knowing he'd cut off of it once he was sure Pollux wasn't trying to follow him.
"But yeah, if you need help with anything, you've got my number," Pollux said, "I hope you get to feeling better, though,"
He revved up the engine a bit and watched Rykah go.
Rykah gave a wave of response,before disappearing into the trees, relaxing a little at the familiar greenery.
Pollux made no effort to follow Rykah, but stayed where he was for a bit, mulling over everything that had happened.
He sighed softly, wondering if he'd taken the right approach to everything. Something was definitely off with this guy.
Rykah eventually deviated from the trail,stepping into the trees and picking his way through a bit more carefully than normal because of his wing.
Pollux left his bike where it was and walked over the pavillion to take a bit of a break before riding back home. He wondered if he'd ever see Rykah again. It had been a strange chance encounter. Would he have even been okay if Pollux hadn't shown up?
Rykah may or may not have been okay if Pollux hadn't found him. But at this point that wasn't his worry as he came out In the small clearing that had made home. Letting out a long sigh he surveyed the damage. A branch had fallen on the main tarp, ripping a giant hole in the middle. The plastic box that held his artsupplies supplies was damaged, but the contents seemed to be okay. Unfortunately the other small bin with the remainder of his belongings was damaged too, and everything inside was soaked, if not completely ruined.
Pollux shifted in discomfort as he realized he was tired- and hungry again. He had only allowed himself a little blood yesterday after he almost lost himself at work, but it was always just a matter of time before he felt faint again.
He had tried to wean himself off blood, but it didn't work. Real food made him sick, and no matter what he did, blood was the only thing that kept him from starving.
His weight fluctuated a lot, too. He would refuse to feed for a few days, until he was too weak to stand, but then he would gorge himself on blood. It was always animal blood. He couldn't forgive himself for biting anyone, even if the truth was that animal blood was nutritionally poor in comparison and tasted overwhelming and dirty.
Rykah carefully began pulling the wreckage apart, wincing whenever he moved his wing the wrong way as he dug out the salvageable, and tied a line to two trees and hung all the soaked, dirty blankets and the few pairs of extra clothing on it.
Pollux almost started to stand up again, but he felt quite weak. The daylight pierced his eyes, even in its smaller slivers through the trees, and his stomach gurgled uncomfortably.
Rykah had just finished pulling things out to dry, and was laying out the big tarp to see how bad the damage was. He knew he couldn't afford another anytime soon, so if he could repair it… that would be better than nothing.
(Hey, what if Pollux goes hunting and comes a cross Dylan's shelter in a sort of half controlled state after finding an animal to feed off of? (And what if he maybe ends up feeding off of Rykah by accident? Maybe? Idk he's your chara,)
Pollux sat still for a while, until a squirrel sat down in the middle of the trail. He dashed over without thinking and grabbed it, hungrily biting down into the vein in its neck. He drained the blood from the poor creature.
In the process, his hood came off, exposing his face to the light. A ray of sun put a harsh burn across his cheek, but he paid it no mind until he finished his meal.
Rykah traced his fingers over the large rips, and sighed sadly. It was pointless to try and fix the tarp. He could salvage some of it, but most of it was now useless. Which meant he'd be using it to protect his stuff, rather than to shelter himself. He'd probably use the highway overhang further on in the trails for shelter next time it rained. At least until he got his paycheck and bought a new tarp. Assuming he hadn't been fired for missing his shift today.
Still absolutely ravenous, Pollux followed the trail a bit further and meandered off the path into the woods, unknowingly towards Rykah's shelter. He had somewhat lost his stealth in his sort of rampaging state, and had trouble finding more animals to feed off of.
Without thinking, he walked towards the shelter he saw ahead. Still weak, still burning in the heat of the sun, he found himself forging ahead.
His fangs were bared, his eyes glazed over, and squirrel blood dripped down the corners of his mouth still as he came closer.
Rykah heard someone crashing through the trees and tensed a little when he spotted who it was. At first he thought Pollux was mad at him for evading him and lying, but then he saw, and smelled, the blood. And noticed the others glazed eyes. Carefully he backed away, his good wing pressed up against his back in an attempt to be less noticeable given his red and violet feathers.
Pollux scoured the area for anything else living. He distinctly caught a whiff of Rykah's blood pumping deliciously underneath his skin.
He crept ahead, but he was shaking, trembling. He was still there, but his mind had seemingly taken a backseat, and he had trouble controlling his body.
Pollux started towards Rykah, but he desperately tried to fight the urges. He was shaking and burned and weak, already dragging into the shelter.
The shelter wasn't much of a shelter at the moment, more of a clothesline and a wrecked tarp on the ground beneath an oak tree with low hanging branches. Rykah slowly backed away a little more, nervous and not sure of what to do in this situation. He couldn't run, not with his wing. He couldn't fly or climb either. Sunlight didn't seem to bug Pollux much right now, and he had no weapons aside from mentally volatile magic he really didn't want to use. So he kept his eyes on Pollux, and backed away, hoping he could think of a plan and get away. But those plans were dashed when he tripped over the remains of his second small plastic bin, landing flat on his back with a small cry of pain thanks to his broken wing.
Pollux grabbed Rykah by the shoulder. He tilted the other's head, exposing his neck. He was breathing raggedly, in pain from his burns, weak from hunger, and trying to fight his horrible instincts.
He hesitated for a second as he started to put his mouth over Rykah's neck, and his grip went weak. He still panted heavily as he fought the urge to sink his teeth into the exposed vein, which pulsed with blood.
Rykah bit his lip in fear as the other gripped his shoulder and started to go for his neck. He wasn't sure why he didn't move, why he didn't shove the vampire off of him… fear? Maybe something else? He wasn't sure. But what did matter was the fact that he wasn't moving. He was barely even breathing, caught, frozen in the moment.
It was probably best that Rykah didn't put up a fight. He didn't scurry away like most prey, so it didn't set off Pollux's instinct to bite down any more. As the energy from the squirrel blood finally started to set in, the fog over his mind started to lift.
"Oh… oh no…" he murmured, lowering his face into Rykah's neck, almost for comfort.
Rykah finally let himself breath, though he still didn't move too much. He wasn't sure what to think of their position, which would've looked very compromising position if anyone saw them. He also had no idea how the other would react when he realized where he was.
"I'm so sorry…" Pollux whispered.
His chest still heaved hard with each breath. He thought he was under control. Maybe. He couldn't be sure.
"Don't move too suddenly. I don't know if I'm back to myself or not. I don't want to hurt you."
Rykah wasn't planning on moving anytime soon, but he let out a weak hum of acknowledgment, just trying to stay calm, not panic, and.. well… work up a way to explain his living situation when he was inevitably questioned about it.