He's entirely unsure why Shadow has stopped, just lying there, able to feel the trickle of what he assumes is meant to be blood from the wounds in his neck. The change in Shadow is subtle at first, then more pronounced. He watches as those eyes get closer, unable to pull back or away, not that he would have were he not so weakened.
He blinks, slowly, at the soft little whisper, and those lips are so close he can feel them. Feel that breath. Breathes it in, himself, shallowly. The pounding in his ears is strong, still, and he knows it means he is fast slipping away. "... will you grant me the boon... of keeping me close, my other?" he whispers, best he can, vision already wavering. "... so no other cursed... can have me in... my weakened state... when I re-awaken..."
Dimming emerald eyes widen then, suddenly, as those fangs sink into his lower lip. Not sharply, but still very much there, and he stares at those unearthly crimson eyes, obviously a little startled at the fact that Shadow bit him there. The pull then, against his lip and... that feels... Chokes back the sound it wants to pull from him, furiously. It's erotic, is what it is. Almost painfully so, and the pounding in his ears grows. His vision wavers, wildly. He's dying, swiftly now, conciousness is rapidly fleeing from him and the light in serpentine eyes dims, sharply, all of a sudden.
"... nnh.. Sh--..." He never finishes the muffled word, though. The hedgehog draws what little bit of life he has left from him and existance waves and then darkens, sharply. Gives a shuddering little exhale as conciousness slips away almost too easily. Such a strange and beautiful experience, death... This one in particular. His last thought is how wrong it must be to die in such a soft erotic manner... and yet how utterly delightful...