His hesitation was noticeable, appearing almost to decide to turn away, to keep walking, to ignore her even. The thought riled her, because damnit she actually got his name right and that was saying something. He was her brother, bonded with sand and fire, but tethered together all the same. As any good sister would do, she fully intended to kick his stupid ass.

She stood on the precipice of the unknown, waiting, even as she was in motion, for his response, whatever it would be. She'd pursue him no matter what, but it would be better if he turned on his own accord; all fires were easier to light with a spark, but she could set him burning regardless. When he turned, she smiled, encouraged by his acceptance, even if it was with a defeated resignation. Her pace quickened, now approaching at a steady trot, anxious to close the gap that stretched between them.

She ran at him, fists up, a streak of lightning cutting across the sky of the desert, sand bursting around the storm of her unrelenting body. "FIGHT DAMN YOU!" she roared as she came at him, front on, teeth peeling out from behind her words to snap at his face. She wanted to see him move, wanted to see him show some effort to protect himself, force him to realize that he was more interested in this life than even he knew. Instinct alone might drive his shying away, but it ought to reveal something about his will to survive.

As she lunged for the prince's chin her front hooves lifted partially from the ground, his height looming over her, but that was nothing new. What would be different however was her inability to rely on the advantages of her small stature, the agility and speed that was so often provided felt lost on this golden boy. Perhaps the only benefit she had was her vigor and her experience in the field, but Cera was a fighter, even if he wouldn't admit it. His battles might be more internal, more dour and emotional, but he wore the scars just as she did. More importantly, she knew the sea he drifted in, because she waded into it one too many times herself.

"There is something worth fighting for," she growled out, dropping back to the sand like a snake recoiling. Her ass bunched beneath her, taking her mass, then shoving it outwards. Ampere's head swerved left, opening up the brunt field of her chest to ram into his, or whatever area of him faced her if he had turned away in those moments since she snapped.

Then she grew quiet, calm, still. She stopped pursing, stopped swinging even if her fists were still balled at her sides. Instead Ampere hovered near him, waiting, hoping for a retaliation. She wanted to feel the burn of pain from his retaliation, because without it how else would she know he'd been lit up?

"It's easy to give up, I know," she whispered, not caring if he heard or not. "Life isn't easy on purpose. Easy makes us soft, makes us weak, makes us nothing. Easy is dead."

@[Cera]

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A: 1/3
D: 0/1
W: 539

A M P E R E
PRETTY FACE AND ELECTRIC SOUL