If Ampere had any sense of politics and the finesse of herd life, she would have question Cera's self appointed rise to the rock and his bellowing, commanding call that came from it. She would have wondered at his authority to summon and direct the herd, and more importantly, the wisdom behind it when it seemed he was only there to spread panic, such was the rushed way he spoke without solution to finish it. She even would have called into question what disrespect he must have for his leads to not only surpass their chain of command (another method of wreaking havoc), but to assume telling them directly and letting them handle it was not favorable. It called to mind that if Cera doubted his leads, should they all? It begged the question that if he could break rank, could they all?

Fortunately, Ampere had not even a single one of these thoughts pounding through her mind as she glided towards the beckoning cry. It was one thing she did not miss about herd life, having to drop whatever it is you were doing to scuttle to attention for some meeting or another. It was probably good that one occurred after just recently returning, killing her wild habits before they had time to put down their roots here. This was a call she knew could not be ignored.

Settling before the painted boy with a soft spray of sand, Ampere wracked her brain for his name. She was awful with name. Though she did somewhat recognize him, from when their positions had been reversed. She couldn't remember her feelings about him though, so decided to simply sit and listen. Her wings folded against her backside, and even a back toe cocked in preparation for the long winded speeches often associated with these events. Yet she shed her causality after he'd finished what he said, her feathers fluffing in alarm that was aided by the urgency in his voice and the almost desperate sound of his final question.

"What kind of unnatural death?" Ampere called out strongly from the gathering, her blue eyes stern as she turned them upon him. Death was a sorry, albeit inevitable fate for them all. However something like murder was not simply sad, it was wrong - to take the ultimate freedom of someone, their life, was a crime worth the worst punishments. Sometimes death was its own freedom, but not when given by the hooves of another without permission.

I knew that place was too good to be true, Ampere thought hotly, glancing towards the floating rock which now seemed suddenly ominous.