Anger.

No, that was too far off. It wasn't that he was too tired to be angry, although it was something like that. Unlike the thoughts racing through Sohalia's mind, Gaucho was thinking of the opposite. For him, Sohalia was the one who represented a simpler time, when things were easy. Seeing her now, reminded him of that, as opposed to the mess of confusion and drama that he represented for her. He too thought of the first time that they met, of Zenobia's birth. He remembered fighting Note and publicly declaring his love for the mare. How she had been is one and true Kahleesi. More children after that - easy conversations and walks through the Throat. Sohalia's tempered advice, given softly but sternly. She stood in such stark contrast to Ampere ... and perhaps that's what made it easy for him to love them both. Neither could possibly tread where the other had stood, and each represented something so different to him...

Besides, disappearing was something that, rather guiltily, he had considered before. He could never actually abandon the Throat, but the idea of unshackling himself from this sandy and bloody world of responsibility was such an inviting thought - one that perhaps only Sohalia would understand, for surely Ampere wouldn't (he wrongfully assumed).

And as soon as she turned towards him, anything that might have grown into anger was immediately drowned out by the roar of her beauty, the serenity of her gaze. The small unbidden smile on her muzzle coaxed one from him as well, and he was glad when she began to descended, so that, he could view her from the other side as well. That, and so that they could stand and properly talk, rather than trying to fit the entirety of what would surely be a rather bizarre conversation, between mouthfuls of air and wingbeats.

Trailing behind her, the Wildfire landed with a soft thud in the sands. For the first time in a long while, Gaucho actually tucked his wings neatly against his flanks, arched his neck ever so slightly, and stood squarely. He wasn't trying to impress her or show off ... but then again, maybe he was. He was no idiot, obviously there stood a gulf between them - obviously she had left and in her years of being away and un-dead, she had decided not to come back. Something had happened. Even so, a part of him, not as hidden away as he might have thought it was, wanted her to want to cross the invisible barrier that pushed them apart, even if no part of her actually could.

But what was he even thinking?

He had to shake himself to stop thoughts of reaching forward and touching her, of spreading his wings across her back, of helping her and casually falling into their old banter. Indeed, his fought to keep his gaze level, fixed only on hers rather than letting it droop to discover the ways in which her body might have changed. A body he knew so well, but wanted to discover anew. He failed in this, a few times, and quickly forced his eyes to raise.

"Soh ... healthy?" She hadn't been when she had returned to him before. And, still assuming that she was just returning, thought she might need aid. "Gaucho can heal now." He followed up, almost sounding awkward despite the fact that his speech had been steadily increasing, even if his vocabulary was lacking.