Ampere had never done this before. She had never stood in the warm embrace of her sands, peering into the flickering of her fire, and hoped to summon her god for all of his wisdom and guidance. Of course, these were his sands (and how reminiscent of his strong touch...), his fire (dancing like his clever gaze), and she supposed Maren. Yet he was her god. Even if she knew the worth of them all, she felt she understood him the best, because he was more a part of her than even the Earth, whom claimed to be within everything. Even if she was decorated in the cold lightning of the Spark, he had always been the one to shed light on her darker moments, leading her back into salvation. Even if her heart fluttered near the son of the Moon, and her passion drove her into the secrecy of the night, he provided for her all that had been missing from her life. To him, the Sun, Ampere owed everything, and it was for him that she toiled in sweat and blood for each day.

That was why she did not seek out the smooth stone of the Veins, as she had so many times before when she'd needed to bow her head to the heavens. This time, she felt that she belonged here, that she owed it to him to pay homage in his own kingdom, and that it was he alone she wished to speak with.

So you can understand the swelling hesitation that mounted inside Ampere as she stood with her diviner beside the desert fire. Not only was it such an unfamiliar part of a place that had become her, it was very intimate, the act of summoning a god in his own realm. The rush that had carried Ampere like a songbird to tweet in Maren's ears, didn't seem apparent today as she stood statuesque in front of the face of her god. Though, it had not left either, but rather hummed just beneath her skin, as alive and jumpy as electricity. The congratulations that Maren had provided only the day before was just another loop of metal on the heavy chains that Ampere wrought herself in. Chancellor, Gladiator, Throatling, Sun worshiper, Mother, Mother of Companions, Pegasus, Ampere, Thunderhead. How many names had she been given in her lifetime, and how many more awaited, each one with its own additional weight?

Every echo of them was another task to be done, another duty to be upheld, another moment of the day slipping away like sand upon the shore. How could she simply relax, when there was so much to do? How could she be selfish, when she scorned others for that very thing?

Yet, that's precisely what Maren was asking her to do.

Ampere blinked, the bright blue of her eyes cutting out behind black lids, like a neon light flickering in the middle of the night (she would be a bar sign). Her head turned, the first real movement since she'd halted next to the tiger mare. "Wh-what?" she stammered, her tones colored with disbelief and confusion, as though Maren had spoken a different language or asked her to tear off her own wings. Instantly Ampere balked, the electricity inside her resisting this insistence that it disperse. Whenever Ampere wanted to relax she flew until she couldn't go any further, she fought until she hurt, or she loved until she hated. She slept when she had to, which was frequently midday because the heat made it too unbearable to do much else, not that that always stopped her. She didn't just, lie down, close her eyes, and relax though - she wasn't even sure she could.

Maren didn't wait for her though, and as she settled in the sands like a hen on her nest, Ampere couldn't help but feel a strangeness rising inside her as she stood awkwardly besides the awfully content 'pegasus'. Blue eyes glanced about, searching for some kind of reprieve. Finding none, Ampere resigned herself to her fate with a sandy snort. She needed Maren to see the Sun, for no matter how close she felt to him, Maren was closer.

Slowly, but surely, Ampere knelt into the desert, then laid on it. The sand pricked against her body, familiar, but abruptly uncomfortable in this moment, as if she was hyper-aware of it. She shifted her legs once, twice, three times before giving up and pinching her eyes shut. Shapes and lights spun around behind her eyelids, distracting her as she tried to watch them. Her lashes twitched, and at one point lifted, before hurriedly pushing back together. She breathed deep and exhaled deep, but she still felt heavy, and that weight pushed her skin into the sand and the sand pushed back.

"When does the relaxing happen?" she finally asked, her voice a drawl of impatience. "Should I have gone for a run first?"