It came with dawn, the pain.

What had begun as a feeling of heaviness over the past several days, combined with an increased appetite, had appeared to Ampere as nothing more than a minor cold. Oddly enough however her nose never ran and her throat never itched, but all the same she was, off.

Her mother would have laughed knowingly, and even hens would have clucked with their experience, but Ampere was blind to the workings of her body and the aftereffects of a well spent afternoon with the embodiment of the flaming orb that currently climbed the sky.

Just as the day was born, so too was a flame, in the guise of a foal.

Ampere kicked anxiously at her stomach and repeatedly folded and unfolded her wings. It felt like a stomach ache, but further back and somehow different.
With a groan she laid down to roll for a third time, thoroughly covering herself in red dust. She lie there on her left side, flanks heaving more than normal with her elevated respiration. She didn't get up, she lacked the energy, or at the very least, she thought she did.

The pain came then, gripping and overwhelming to such a degree that the edges of Ampere's gaze swam with black dots. Her nostrils flared and her flanks quivered as her body contracted against the pale shell that had finished forming.

"What's happening?!" Ampere thought wildly, her eyes rolling white as another burst of pain washed over. She knew, as she had known for a while, that she was not ill.

Afraid, Ampere found new energy and scrambled back to her hooves, her teeth grit against another spasm of pain as she struggled to stand. Every cord of her muscles was taut with worry and focus, her ears spinning about madly on her poll to listen as she frantically sought some form of shelter and isolation among the flat landscape.

A nearby grove of tree promised little but was all she had on hoof. She waddled awkwardly to it, and there fell to her side once more, dust swirling about her nose as she panted and pushed. With a final crow her egg slipped past her tail.

---

For a while Ampere could only lay there. She was in disbelief more than immobilization, her head repeatedly lifting from the carpet of sand to stare wide-eyed at the pale shape sitting innocently behind her. "How?" she breathed, the word barely a whisper as anxiety clawed up her throat and choked the wind from her.

"No." She said, firmer now, "No. No no no no no. No this can't be!" With a newfound vigor Ampere bolted to her feet, sand splattering the side of the egg with a delicate sound. Like some monstrous crab Ampere moved away from it, only stopping when her side bumped against a rough tree trunk.

Her mouth had gone dry and her heart threatened to thump its way right out of her chest, but Ampere knew. Deep down, Ampere knew what this was and why this was, but more importantly, she knew what it meant, and it was a responsibility she did not want and was not equipped for by most any means.

"Damnit!" she cursed as she stalked forward abruptly. He movements were jagged and harsh, though underneath the searing anger she still trembled with fear. "This is all his fault!" she moaned as she cast a forehoof into the sand beside the egg, She continued like this for a while, venting her frustrations verbally and physically as she dug a hole, an arduous task in sand intent on spilling back in where she'd already pulled it out.

Eventually her frustration lent itself back to exhaustion and with an over dramatic groan Ampere stepped away from her desert nest. With a grimace she faced the egg square, tentatively reaching down to bump it with her nose. The shell was surprisingly cool to the touch, and hard, but fraught with miniscule bumps. She held her muzzle against ti for a while, amazed by what had been made.

A hawk screeched overhead, startling Ampere from her reverie. hastily, as if the hawk might be on to her intent, Ampere nosed the egg into the hole she'd dug. As a finishing touch she piled up sand around it, so that it was mostly covered. "There," she finished, stepping back to admire her work. "That should keep you warm little one," she murmured, hoping the shade of the tree grove would provide enough balance with the heat so that it did not cook.

The sun gleamed against a bit of exposed shell.

"Stay safe," she whispered as she turned away, galloping across the sands and beginning to lift her wings into flight. She had no intention of returning. Ampere remained unbonded.

@[Tandavi]