The moment isn't getting any better despite Ampere's best efforts. Even without a rough beginning Ampere can barely sustain mild mannered conversation for long. If she isn't screaming at someone or lifting her tail there really isn't much point in her opening her mouth.
The heat really is getting to her.

Just then the filly came plummeting from the sky; a mirage that is all too real. Grateful for something to direct her attention towards besides the hawkward situation, Ampere's gaze readily leaps upwards, her gaze illuminating as the golden girl falls in a wash of crimson sand. It rises like a mild wave, Ampere's mind flashing back to her conversation with Mesec on the beach, and roots her hooves in deep, grounding herself against the pitter-patter of fine granules that pellet her hide. I am the shore...

A moment passes, then two, before Ampere dares to rouse from her defensive posture. Her legs are locked, her muscles tensed while she leans away from the desert bath. She sputters, her face puckered to keep the grains from her tongue. Her lashes blink in quick succession, trying to rid the drops of dust that cling to them, while she shakes her head and mane out. By then she figures she may as well shake the rest off, and finishes with a grunt and a crack of her tail.
Even so she can feel the minuscule rocks crawling into her skin, like desert lice.

Amid this the girl's voice rises and falls, only keeping steady with the obnoxious whine all children possess. Ampere reconsiders her choice to remain planted, the sand the least of her worries now.
The girl and her mother, apparently, exchange a quick greeting in which the filly inflates with hollow confidence that her mother strokes and praises. Ugh, Ampere thinks, trying to keep her eyes from rolling, how irritating when someone thinks they're better than they actually are. Not that Ampere has any experience with that.
Is there a cactus I could deflate her with...

Too late though, Zenobia rounds upon Ampere with enough force she surely emptied her own windbag. Sohalia interjects kindly, her mild manners reminding her of her own mother, but by then Ampere's gaze had begun to spark, even more intrigued when Zenobia did too.

Ampere smirked.
"I'm Ampere," she comments, almost off hand, while the ground around her feet crackles and surges into blue life as pulsing, ebbing energy. A circular wave of electrical fire dances around Ampere, converging before her to create a small bird that she sends to flap around the duo.
"And that was a terrible landing," she finishes, competition striking a chord in her throat as she speaks, smothering what few manners she maintained.
Go figure when your mom's grounded.