It was the large accumulation of horses that drew her attention from the opposite shore. At first glance it was hard to say if she knew any of them, which was partly because she did not, aside from the one. So Ampere took to her wing, leaving her fillies to sleep while she caught the wind and let it tug her across the stretch of sea that kept them safe.

As she circled overhead, getting closer and closer, tighter and tighter, with each turn she began to discern that she did in fact know this gathering. Well, know was a strong word, but she recognized them at the very least. Many were members of the Throat, all of them perhaps, or were at any rate, but why the party on the other side? Lack of a key perhaps, and given the the winged responders with no required rank, perhaps none to help the fire dancer across.

Then there is the fact the one crashed. Ampere sees it as she begins her descent, and a quiet gasp leaves her throat, because landing that hard is never any fun. With greater concentration on the fallen body she notices it's small, a child... it'd bounce back she thought with a rueful grin as she continued to reach for the ground.

Sand scattered like a wave as she settled near the menagerie, feathers stretched and flapping once or twice more before sleeking back against her body. A glance was tossed towards the colt, recognizing the boy from her conversation with Destry; there had been something off about the child then, something that her reminded her of her own son and she remembered once more that she wanted them to meet. Greater concern filled her then, unsure if the babe could even fly at all, or should be attempting such. "Where is your mother child?" she asked as she stepped closer, ensuring he was safe alongside Amani whom she proffered a warm smile in greeting.

Once certain a healer was needed or not, she lifted her attention to the other mares present, a gentle grin settling into place with casual grace at such familiar and welcome faces, ones she hadn't seen in some time. Tandavi had been present for the fights, but the mare had been distant, scarce even, and she saw some of that in the fire dancer even now that made her smile falter. "I have a key to get you in Tandavi," she murmured, still sure that was the issue. As an afterthought she decided to add, "is everything well?"

Her named called her away from the conversation she was trying to strike with Tandavi, and her head turned towards it, confused. The child had risen, Amani hovering uncertainly near him. He didn't appear injured and yet he mewled like a distressed kitten. As a mother it tugged on Ampere, and she called back to him like a hand extended in the dark. "I'm here," she murmured, and that was the first time she really took note of the way his head moved around and his ears flicked back and forth. He had seemed off to her when they first met, but Destry and shyness had shielded him from her, as had her intent upon the missing armor and its involvement with the Whatch. Int his more exposed moment though she recognized that he was blind. She saw her own son in him then and her heart broke for his hardships so unfairly given by such a cruel world.

"Amani," Ampere intoned again, hoping her voice did not betray the level of emotion humming within. "Find Destry will you? I don't think she knows her boy has left the herd land." Her gaze flicked up from the child to hold Amani's, suggesting no room for argument. Continued attempts to try and usher the boy across on their own would be unsuccessful given his state, and now that she knew more of him, she doubted he was supposed to be out here alone. Why must children wander?

She thought to draw him too her with her magic, but decided that could be too terrifying even with sight. Instead she moved towards him, closing the gap with her muzzle.

Tandavi's voice drew her back to what had been her purpose here. That a clear "no" was her response to Ampere's question was not surprising, Ampere could see there was something bothering the normally solidly founded mare. That she was leaving however, was a shock.

Ampere says nothing at first, the blue of her gaze following the key as it slips from the aureate neck to the sands. It's such a small thing, she notices then, as if she'd never looked at the keys before. Too small she thinks with some amount of disbelief, too small to mean so much. It could just get lost in the sand like this, with the wind blowing granules over it, slowly burying it, it's weight insignificant compared to most and yet still heavy. Was that what had bothered Tandavi, the weight?

Ampere's gaze lifts up then, questioning. She wants to ask was it too heavy?, but settles on a searching silence. Tandavi is not the first to have left, and she likely won't be the last, yet her departure rankles Ampere. Maybe it's the ceremony here. Ampere had always thought she most hated those who just up and vanished with nary a word, but maybe she had just grown used to that, or maybe not saying goodbye made it less permanent, less cruel somehow. Maybe it had nothing to do with that, and had everything to do with the fact that it was Tandavi. After all, if she had to guess, Amaris wasn't staying either and that didn't phase her half as much.

Tandavi followed the Sun. She had been his seer. She had been his sultana. She had come back, so why now was she throwing it all away? How could she just drop all of that history, all of that weight so easily? Ampere wanted to yell at her, wanted to accuse her, wanted to guilt and shame her because damnit she was her sand sister and she was her friend (?) and her guide and she was, she was something! She meant something, and not just to Ampere.

She didn't though, because she was not innocent in this respect either. Ampere had been a sultana, she followed the sun, and yet she had left too. No one had asked her why, not then, not after, and not now. She had enjoyed that peace; it made living with it easier. She had extended similar courtesies to everyone else that had vanished and returned, because she knew what it was like. This time though she couldn't, because there had to be a reason, and she wanted it to be a good one. "Why?"