Ampere was always more buoyant in Zèklè's company. He had an infectious sort of happiness to him, he always had, and like a balm against her aching heart he alleviated some of her grief, however brief. As he'd aged, she'd seen less and less of him, as was to be expected. She'd had to remind herself for a time not to unnecessarily crowd him, looming over like a mother hen incapable of letting go. Having younger children to keep watch over had helped there, but Ampere had always been a bit more lenient with his sisters- they had each other for support when he'd only had her, and they had always been more independent, practically demanding it in ways he hadn't. Even the youngest child was afforded more freedom though, due in part to negligence as much as purposeful allowance.

Because no matter what happened, Zèklè would always be her first child, the one that turned her love around.
She always felt like maybe he needed more of that love too, because of... because he had... she blinked as she became aware that she was staring at the titanium that grew like a parasite along his side. Knowing his feelings, she glanced away, proffering a smile as they walked and talked along the shore.

It was a peaceful moment that could have gone on for eternity, so it seemed to her. A chance to revel in her son's presence, reminiscent of prior days chasing sunlight through the storm clouds; his youth was her happiest times. That was then though, and this was now. No matter how many similarities she wanted to draw, she was stuck in the now, where her happiness had turned sour, Zèklè included.

She'd heard him. She must have, because suddenly she stopped walking.
Her eyes still had a glassy appearance, seeing but not seeing; looking beyond, where sunlight and laughter had danced. She was stuck there, in the past, just for a moment before the sensation gradually faded. It was like all the color was bleeding out of the world, and each time she blinked, each time she became more aware, the surroundings grew dimer and duller until she was back on the cold Orangemoon shore where storm clouds hung too heavy for any sunshine to break through. She was back to hurt and misery and heartache, and it was him, just him, who had been bright enough to mimic that sunlight she was always reaching for. Her head turned slowly, looking at him with an expression that couldn't quite be placed. Confusion maybe, or more aptly, disbelief. Longing perhaps, or better said, horrified. Sad even, or rather, broken.

"What?" was all she managed after heartbeats of silence, her tone low, fragile as it broke past her lips with a cracking rasp. He had kept talking, but she hadn't really heard anything past I'm movin' to the Falls. She didn't need to, everything after that was just a scramble to explain, an excuse trying to be justified. From his perch on her rump Kygo gave a low, sad note of regret.

She might have said something more, might have asked, or tried at least to understand and come to terms with this, except then he said that. It didn't matter how he said it, so subtle and pleading, it was that he said it at all- come with me. "NO!" she hissed suddenly, her head jerking more towards him, teeth exposed beneath taut lips and ears hidden among her feathers and air. The blue of her gaze that had grown grey like the winter sea now flashed with a brilliant anger. "You lied," she nearly screeched, hysteria rising. "You said you'd look out for us!" she accused, vehement in her outrage, a response to being wounded. "You can't see us from that far away," she snarled, staring for a single moment after she had finished, her flanks heaving, her nostrils flared, her features still taut with fury.

Then she turned on her heels, so abrupt the motion threw Kygo from her, and she bolted forward and took to her wings, abandoning them all.