Firefly Glen (m) Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

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His crooning was met with a further fluttering in her chest, a desire to play further - but at a different game entirely. She wanted to make him louder, presuming these antics were all part of this new game they had begun to play, this dance which - for her, at least - was utterly meaningless. Ibis wanted sensations, she wanted physical contact, and it didn't really matter who gave it to her; had she been in her right mind Ibis likely would not have chosen Mal at all, unfortunately. But she was here now, lost to the whims of her own biology.

She preened at him, he tugged back at her, dishevelling her cheek fur and nibbling at other places - it reminded her strongly of the silver boy she had met with months and months ago, as if in another life (Tegan) and the memory of those feelings swept over her too; she wanted that, whatever that had been. And then suddenly Mal was everywhere; swarming around her, pressing himself close to the point that she felt like she might snap -- and as he worked his way down her spine Ibis was lost to sensation. She was a mindless needy thing, and as a response to all of his attention she stepped back, pressing her hindquarters close, not fully coherent to what her body was doing - although by now it wasn't her first roll in the hay.

It was his move, now.