THUNDERHEAD

She was dwelling, again. The thoughts tumbled back and forth across her mind, much like the waves upon the shore that she so adored. They were too numerous to recount, like trying to take stock of all the grains of sand on the shore, and too fleeting to grasp, like the salt water which spun foam on the beach. So Ampere simply stood, and watched, and listened. Little by little, she let the ocean push her back into serenity, or whatever semblance of it she could attain.

Gone from her was the electrical energy that she so often embodied, replaced instead by the meditative state Maren had tried to teach her to obtain at will. Perhaps some day she would, but for today, and many other days, Ampere would seek out the ocean for her help in that regard. Of all the times for someone to speak to her about matters close to her heart, this was surely the best. Though, her lightning still lurked as ever, and she had certainly turned conversations into storms before. Still, every storm runs out of rain.

Exhaling slowly, gently, Ampere blinked against the sea breeze. With Maren's voice still in her ears, Ampere knelt down on first her front legs, bowing to the mighty ocean, before keeling over on her rump as well. Flicking her tail on either side of her to feel the sand, Ampere groaned as she flopped onto her left side, careful to keep her wings tucked in tight as she began to roll and itch and bask in the sand of the sea. It was getting too cold to embrace the water these days, but it didn't make the sunsets or the bedding any less enjoyable.

After laying for a moment on her side, cloaked in particles of crushed rock and shell, Ampere rolled back to her chest and gazed with an unwavering hold out at the horizon line. At her side blue sparks began to gather, though they didn't have the quick anger so typical of her. Instead the energy, drawn from dead seaweed and other splinters of life, flowed with an easy pull all around her. They gathered in two separate spheres, which soon were shaped into mice. They scampered around Ampere, their hazy outline occasionally lost when a stray bit of energy arced out, wild and violent, before they reformed and continued their dance.

This was peace, yet it would never last. The Raven in the tree was testament to that.