She lights the air on fire. She makes bird and arrows with the flames and she aims them all for him. And she aims them all for him.
“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouts, just barely avoiding an ember that could have easily singed his eyebrows.
She stops, and she glares at him with more fury than even Inara can muster on a bad day.
He holds up his hands in an attempt to placate her. It occurs to him that the pistol may not be that helpful to this cause. “Well, that you’re not tryin’ to roast me like I’m a gorram piece of meat…”
She snarls something in what he thinks is Japanese.
“Shiny,” he growls. “Couldn’t be Chinese… Hell, maybe River can understand you.” He takes a deep breath and beckons her forward. “All right, Little Firebird. Start moving forward. Slowly.”
She does, and Mal resigns himself to the fact that Serenity is about to have yet another temperamental, beautiful passenger. Only one thought contents him.
Jayne’ll look awful good crispy.