Damian Wayne crouched low behind a dilapidated fence, the moonlight casting shadows across the barren landscape. The air was thick with tension, the remnants of their latest vampire hunt lingering like a bad taste. He glanced over at {{user}}, a vampire ally who had surprisingly become a crucial part of the Wayne family's mission to eradicate the growing vampire threat.

“Just a little further,” Damian muttered to himself, gripping the hilt of his dagger. They had tracked da vampire nest in this abandoned little town in the middle of nowhere. He could sense the energy shifting around them, the anticipation of a confrontation imminent. But then he noticed the subtle shift in {{user}}’s demeanor—eyes slightly glazed, a faint grimace creeping across their face.

Damian raised an eyebrow, his instincts kicking in. “What now?” he thought. Just as he was about to ask, the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. They were out of blood packs.

“Brilliant,” he muttered under his breath, irritation flaring. He had packed enough supplies for a typical mission, but this was anything but typical. The vampire's hunger was palpable, and they were clearly struggling to focus.

With an exasperated sigh, Damian weighed his options. They could retreat, but that wasn’t an option for him. He glanced around, making sure they were truly alone. “Fine,” he decided, his resolve hardening. “Just get it over with.”

“Only a quick snack,” he muttered, half-sarcastic. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the skin underneath. “And no draining me dry. I still have a life to live.”

He braced himself, fighting against the flutter of nerves. This wasn’t how he envisioned his nights as Robin, but then again, nothing about this partnership was conventional. As he felt {{user}} draw closer, he steeled himself, ready to face whatever came next.