Firefly Glen caressed my every sense it would allow

The feather-light touches, Ava's question— they fueled some burn deep within him, an unidentifiable feeling that demanded to be addressed. He offered no verbal response, instead drawing his muzzle gently alongside hers and, if allowed, down her neck. The sunset boy preened at the fur there, taking his actions back up along her jawline so long as he was not stopped. Cortland didn't question his own actions, or the need that drove him on; in the back of his mind, something writhed in horror, but it was forgotten now. Instinct dominated him, blanketing thickly over his usual clarity— all he knew right now was that he desperately wanted... something. He wanted her, in ways he did not yet understand.