Mesec felt as though he would come to regret his inability to move toward her, to take the initiative and abandon his fears and just touch her smooth coat and wild mane. But there was a small, one-winged-colt sized gap between them in his mind - a colt with a father, one she might prefer to feel the touch of - one that might have actually done so upon greeting her. The rush of jealousy that hit him with these assumptions, the thoughts he had been trying to avoid, was more powerful than he would have thought and rather troublesome. Why should it matter to him? It was a part of her life that he had simply did not know existed so he had assumed that it had not.

He shook his head at her dismissal of his congratulations, was that modesty driving her words? “Oh I don’t believe that for a second.” He commented quietly, not looking at her directly but grinning as his silver eyes looked at the sea. “But I'll save the congratulations, then. I'm sure they'll be applicable soon.” He honestly did not believe that she would be terrible - he had faith in his friend and any endeavour she set out on. Why would this be any different? Did Ampere know how to be terrible at anything? No examples came to mind.

They do not linger there on the beach for long, the electric mare asking if he’ll fly with her. The words that follow were not taken literally, though they were enough to get his head to turn toward her - concern instantly rushing through him. What storm was coming now? He wanted to ask her and would have too, if there had been time. But she was reaching out to nip him, her teeth grazing his neck before she was off. Despite the concern, he was smiling again and as his wings unfurled so that he could follow her. The silver on his feathers shone in the darkness as they were revealed, flashes of moonlight as they beat at the air to give him lift so he could catch up. The wind rushed around him, catching his wings and suddenly it didn’t matter what storm Ampere needed to avoid.

The rush of air, of blood, made him feel that sunlight she had mentioned and he moved beside her - allowing their wings to beat against the air in rhythm with each other for a moment. Just for that moment though, because afterwards he called out a playful warning before angling his wings and swooping toward her - not aiming to hit but to sail past and see if Ampere was up for a race.

Even as he did so, he worried that this might be another move he'd regret - maybe all she had wanted to do was fly not race and play in the wind beneath the stars. But there was nothing for it now, as he half-turned toward her - wings beating steadily to keep his altitude - waiting for a reaction.