In that moment, Ampere's short sightedness became even more lively and forceful in his mind than her raw sexuality ever had. He was overcome with a stumbling-over of words and ideas with a force he had never felt before. Gaucho had never been tongue-tied in the sense that most experience. His only experience with anything close was simply being unable to communicate, but only because words were foreign and difficult. Now, emotions and thoughts pressed themselves to the forefront of his mind, screaming to be let out. His body hardened instinctively as he unconsciously turned towards her slightly, as if angling to smack her across the face with a wing. Most of this physical reaction had to do with the mechanics of their relationship: although they had never progressed to this step before, Gaucho was sure that if it came down to it, any altercation between the two would be settled with their bodies (in one way around another) rather than their words. So it was not simply aggression that caused his subtle turn towards her, although it was not completely lacking either.
Were he more articulate, he might have said something like, If Sohalia suggested he be a crafter I can see why you'd think arts and crafts. But me Ampere? Do you think if I suggest it that's what I have in mind? Fucking arts and crafts? It isn't more likely that I had some sort of plan? But of course he wasn't capable of saying this, and so he didn't. In fact, he said nothing. He did have a plan, one that would require more crafter's but it would take more power than he possessed as Gladiator to bring it to fruition. For now only Sohalia knew, though with Africa's absence, perhaps his power-reaching wasn't completely unjustified ...
That sounds divine -
Snorting and tearing his gaze, and his body away from Ampere, he looked to Buce unmistakeably pleased. He wouldn't need to defend his views after all. The WildFire nodded his antlered skull. "Good." He grunted simply, whatever victory he mentally felt did not reveal itself in his voice.
"We will talk soon." This final comment sat uneasily in the air, as if the intended recipient was unclear. Gaucho's gaze was on Buce, and yet the words seemed to be meant for Ampere, for they were dry and flat in a way that his previous comment hadn't been. With another nod, Gaucho let the pulse of his wings falter slightly so that his body dropped down quickly beneath the hooves of his herdmates. As his altitude decreased, his dark wings pulled from his sides catching him easily and allowing him to glide further downwards towards the sands.
Gaucho kept his ears pinned against his head, trying to catch the sounds of the pair's game of chase resuming, although he would not turn his head to look.
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
