Eric makes a soft noise as Thranduil's lips closed around the wound on his wrist. He can feel the heat of his mouth, and the blood flowing from himself into it. There is a warmth spreading between them he knows is entirely to do with the warmth spreading through Thranduil's body itself. He can feel that Thranduil is not fighting this feeding, but instead perhaps actually enjoying it. And that is perhaps for the best, all things considered.

He cannot help the fact that his free hand shoots out to run through Thranduil's hair, encouraging him on. It is an intimate experience, that they are sharing with one another. An intimate bond, more intimate than before, that they will share after this feeding is over. Strengthen the bond, Thranduil had said. So Eric lets him drink deep, until he knows that more would be unwise, and finally he reaches that hand to put on Thranduil's shoulder, gripping it. "Enough," he says, unsure whether more action will be necessary to stop him or not. Sometimes it is more difficult to stop a feeding than others. Eric knows this from his own personal experience.