It was all going to hell.

She knew coming back wasn't going to be an easy matter. That knowledge had been part of her justification for extending the stay; after a certain point coming back is harder than leaving, just like when you've forgotten someone's name but have known them too long to just ask - except this wasn't just a matter of embarrassment.

Or was it?

Had anyone thus far told Ampere she should have stayed gone, her very fear (based on what ground to begin with?)? Had anyone berated her for her absence, questioned her original departure, or in any way admonished her?
No one, she had to admit, though equally so had she remained hidden even as she walked within Helovia once more. She remained, cautious, like a dog well aware it had drug the trash all around the house and was just waiting for someone to take note and raise their voice. It was coming, she knew it, and she braced herself for that moment.

Still, it was hell now.
Something was wrong with Gaucho, she was sure of it with every climbing day.
Something had happened to Zekle and nearly killed him in the process.

If she had been here, could have stopped either one? The notion that yes, she could have intervened in some positive way, hung on her as heavy guilt, braced against her withers so that every stride was a stiff reminder of her failure.

Then there was Grusha.

The sound of splashing drew Ampere's eye warily to the water's edge. She'd been wandering aimlessly, tangled in her own thoughts, so it took a moment for her to get her bearings and register that she had come here of all places - and that her daughter was here of all horses.
Not just her daughter, but her stubborn, direct, and very abrasive little skeleton.

If anyone was going to call Ampere out on her shit, it was probably going to be Grusha. If Grusha was here, then Tae probably wasn't too far away either, and though both of them were far more intimidating than her son had been, she at least felt a greater kinship with Tae. Of all her children, Grusha was her most estranged, which ought to have encouraged Ampere to bridge their divide. Instead Ampere continued to stand, mixed with the desire to reunite with her daughter and itch to avoid the scrutiny altogether. Fortunately Kygo took matters into his own hands as he darted past Ampere and towards the tawny filly, calling out a shrill "'Ello!" He repeated that three more times before settling on a nearby tree bough and whistling, as if summoning the blue bird.

Ampere's teeth braced against each other as she moved forwards, letting loose a casual, "Grusha..."
Her daughter had grown.
She fucked up.

She had hoped for something else.

Ampere didn't expect anything different than what Grusha provided, but she had hoped - had thought maybe, just this once, she'd have her daughter rather than just a rebellious child. She'd wanted to be needed by Grusha, desired for the filly to come running and crying into the crook of her wing, overwhelmed with feelings at her mother's return and the significance of that. Grusha had never needed her though, not really, not when she'd always had Tae by her side.

We don't often get the things we want," Ampere thought with a sigh and no surprise as she watched the little skeleton's ears slant back and her face jerk up with impudence.
Her reaction didn't anger Ampere. It was deserved, she new that, but the main problem was she didn't want to talk about it with anyone really, least of all her daughter, though out of anyone she probably deserved an explanation the most. Problem was, Ampere didn't really have an answer, not a good one anyway, and that made it much harder to respond. She already wasn't needed by Grusha, she didn't really want to fail her even further.

"Me? I've been here the whole time, sleeping," the thought passed with the idea of an affable laugh - a poor joke to lighten the mood, but one she wisely didn't utter. Grusha didn't strike her as the one for jokes even when times were good, and right now they definitely weren't.
"Beyond Helovia," Ampere responded quietly. Her answer was vague on purpose, and even as she spoke it she had a hard time holding her child's eye. She was tempted to move forward, to smother her daughter with love and in doing so drown this inevitable fight, but she feared the rejection too. So Ampere remained standing, a monolith of guilt, her wings lamely and loosely hung at her sides. "I'm here, now, though," she tried to reaffirm more strongly, her head lifting as if hopeful once more.

"I missed you, little bones."

Tae had been coming to find her twin, with some news that she considered quite exciting. That was why she crested the hill with an energetic canter rather than her normally calm and poised trot. Immediately she halted, sand flying ahead of her small black hooves as her pale eyes regarded the image below.

Grusha. Nashoba. Ampere. Kygo.

Her blood ran hot, then cold, and her body whisped away like cold smoke all around her. Mal and Hel had also stopped, and though they could clearly tell what it was that had upset their bonded, they showed no outward signs on their dark, stern faces. Instead, the two massive black canines merely sat down on either side of the ghostly girl, and watched.

"Ma-" Tae whispered in a voice almost too soft for even her own ears to hear. The word fell from her lips and dropped towards the bloody sands, weighty with the emotion it carried. Tae's pale eyes moved to Grusha, who clearly was anything but impressed with Ampere's arrival. Her twin stood, hip cocked, and despite the fact that Tae couldn't hear any of the words being exchanged below, she very much doubted Grusha was telling their mother how much she was missed. 

Conflict bloomed in the mandible-marked filly's young chest. She did want to run to her mother and fold herself against Ampere's wing and beating heart. She did want reassurance Ampere would never leave again, and that she would always be around to tell her daughter stories and legends of old. But what Tae did not want to do was betray her twin, who had been with her the whole time, even when Ampere had not. 

And so, forcing back the tears that wanted to spring from her eyes, and commanding her limbs not to shake with relief and joy, Tae walked slowly down the sand dune towards her sister and mother, halting at Grusha's side. "You've come back." Tae said, trying to eliminate the wobble from her voice, and succeeding somewhat. Her large white eyes were wide with need and turmoil as they scanned over Ampere, looking for any indication of where she had been, or why she had gone. 

Ampere's eyes widened slightly when Grusha confessed she'd followed Ampere. "Why?" she said at nearly as whisper, her breath hitched in her throat, wondering if the child saw the pathetic unraveling between her and Mesec, the catalyst that spurred her into shameful departure. "You should have stayed here, it wasn't safe!" she didn't mean to lecture, didn't mean to smother her like anything but a mother, but she couldn't help the heart that beat faster in her chest, the worry that wound and unwound around it. Because, no, Ampere hadn't noticed, and the new idea that her actions not only hurt her children emotionally, but may have put them in harm's way was another knife in her chest.

She safe, Kygo attempted to soothe, concerned the pair would just continue to erupt with outrage at each other. Ampere didn't heed him however, distracted then by the arrival of Tae, who appeared barely held within this realm as her body ghosted away. "Tae," Ampere went to say gently, but her throat closed around the word and choked it out as a whisper that would have been hard to hear. The stance Tae took beside Grusha was clear, and Ampere bit on her lower lip as she wondered if she'd ever have these girls again.

Grusha continued, her words cruel daggers that Ampere's ears wished to hide from. Her flesh rippled as she stood, quivering with regret. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" she shouted suddenly, unable to take the barrage any longer. "I didn't mean to," she said quieter after a breath, her lashes blinking against tears that had begun to trail dark lines against her cheeks. "I didn't say goodbye... because it wasn't. I was coming back, I never wanted to leave." There was truth in that, she hoped they would at least recognize it.

"You had Gaucho, and Zero..." she tried to say, as if that somehow could justify her absence, even though she knew it didn't. But you weren't really alone, was the meaning instead. You don't actually need me, or care about me, some nasty part of her wanted to include, bur Grusha extinguished that with her final cry. When Ampere glanced back at her then, having averted her gaze throughout the rising storm of her child's wrath, she gasped to see the skeleton present. She broke, finally realizing that it wasn't just anger that her children carried.
They had been afraid to, they had grieved as well. She had to be stronger than her own emotions, if not for herself, then for their sakes.

Without thinking she moved forward, a slow build up of momentum until she was cantering, closing the physical gap between them as she reached out to drag them beneath her wings and against her chest, resistance or not.
"I'm sorry," she whispered forcefully, "It's not okay, and I;m sorry. I love you both, it won't happen again. We're family, we have to stick together."
Would it be enough? She meant what she said, but was it too little too late? A wound like this, she was sure, only time could help heal, so maybe it wouldn't be enough today, but she hoped someday.

Tae listened silently. Grusha could be cruel and hard in moments like this, moments that seemed to want a certain amount of softeness, of understanding. But nothing that her twin said was wrong, nothing was even slightly off base. Honestly, part of Tae thought it was better this way, that their mother should hear their thoughts out of the mouth of the least articulate of the two, the one who was least likely to cut around the fat.

Besides, Tae was partially too stunned into silence to speak. And for that, she would forever be great full to Grusha for finding the words that she could not.

As the voices around her escalated, Tae's body began to wisp away as indecision bled from her bones. Like Grusha, she considered turning away as Ampere began to move towards them (though truthfully she didn't feel in the impulse quite so strongly as her twin - she'd always had a slightly better relationship with their mother than her larger counterpart had. Even so, she likely would have departed if Grusha did). As it was, the smaller of the three allowed herself to be swept up in Ampere's wing, sighing softly against the darkness that enveloped her vision. There, where no one could see her, the tears that had threatened to fall from her eyes were dried by Ampere's coat, and a small smile of relief pressed against her mother's shoulder.

Tae could almost hear her sister's warning through Ampere's body, and though she didn't nod, she full-heartedly agreed. She had felt what it was like to think she had lost Grusha for a few days, and had felt the pain of losing her mother once. She knew she couldn't bear it again, and so like Grusha, vowed to never forgive such transgressions.

Besides, goodbye only took a second. Couldn't their mother promise them that, come what may?