Bluebirds tend to fly south for the winter, but seeing as it isn't winter yet, it would make sense that they'd fly north.
It's north Ampere heads.
A speck of blue lost in the vastness of the skies she sails on open wings over the wastes of ice and snow. She is a child of summer and all its bounty and what winters she's known have always been tempered with hills and heat. The northern edge of Helovia unfurls beneath her like a ghostly ocean. It is as terrible as it is beautiful.
There is a nice simplicity that the coldest season brings. Of course, like anything else in life, nothing is ever truly
simple, but it at least appears as much to the eye and that is comforting enough. Lost are the chaotic colors flowers bring in spring, gone are the bounty of creatures moving like havoc in the land of summer, missing are the unpredictable storms of autumn. There is only white, white, and emptiness.
Such a great sensation of solitude Ampere feels a pain of sadness drive against her lonely heart. It presses against her like air grown too heavy and with it comes the burden of silence. It makes Ampere want to scream just to be certain she still can. She is afraid that winter has taken her voice as it seems to have taken everything else.
Her cry is a senseless thing as it tears the world apart.
Below her the ground ripples with electric light. Blue lightning erupts from what small sources of living organic material remain, dancing with the fervor of the girl and all her desperate emotions.
She feels dizzy with the exhaustion of her lungs and every breath she gulps down is more painful than the last. Excited and tired all at once she spins down. Breathless she lands, tangled within the borders of a herd she has never heard of. On either side of her the blue lightning washes up like a vibrant wave. She holds her wings half-folded at her sides, neck high with paranoia and nose frosted with her breath. The lightning disperses - the wave rushing into foam as it breaks on the shore.
She came here seeking a respite from the lording of the summer sun. She had never minded it much before, and she much prefers its bathing glow compared to this draining chill, but curiosity as well as heat stroke drove her to explore the icy wilderness of the north. Snow she has known, but never to this degree. It is still lovely, but she remains wary of it and all the solitude it seems to bring. Death echoes around her and its a sound far greater than the chatter of life.
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