When they clashed it was as if all around her had turned to a blur: A blur in which all hues of gold and orange had lost their values. In that moment, gravity seemed to have been something of the past, where the sky and the land had merged into one wonderful, chaotic, desperate orb of two mares. There was nothing else. The world was malfunctioning; all she could see was blue.
A cloud of gold dust emerged with a thud of shock and rained down on them as the crashed into the dune. She groaned, tasted sand in her mouth, mixed with the blood of a cut lip. She squeezed her eyes together as she frowned to look at the mess sprawled underneath and around her. But, whatever she was seeing, it had gone as planned. Better even, if she was totally truthful to herself and her own capabilities. She hadn’t per se expected the girl to topple down the Temple’s stairs by herself, was prepared to take damage herself, but she hadn’t expected how some kind of magical and magnetic push and pull had glued her to the blue one, making it possible to launch them both like a rocket. So they hadn’t fallen down the stairs, they had passed by them; flew over them, as if she’d had wings, too. It was amazing, it was... — This was were Ampere’s moans and groans about her so called holy places came to ears.
Maren’s tiger striped figure still rested very much inappropriately on Ampere’s, though she didn’t quite immediately see it like that. To Maren it was more like restraining potentially dangerous madman. “humpf...,” she ripped herself from the Gladiator’s unforeseen embrace, but only partly, so that she was still able to easily frown down upon the caught mare below her. Even if she would struggle, she would not let go. You know, just in case she would go straight back up the temple stairs and pee all over the place anyway. Meanwhile, more sexually tainted ramblings erupted from that grinning nose. They only made the diviner’s expression quiver in confusion, but she kept Ampere pinned down nonetheless. “What are you talking about? It's Me-di-tat-ing.” she corrected with great annoyance. “...And meditating is a true form of art...” But her sentence broke down as Ampere’s face performed some kind of spasm. Did she just... wink at me? It was the tipping factor that made the silence within Maren’s normally so well kept gaze shatter underneath the pressure of raw perplexity. Reflecting in the exposed and unguarded golds of Maren’s shimmery eyes was now confusion, worry, anger, frustration and… embarrassment? — crowned by the pure tension of the moment. And she felt it brush the insides of her chest before she shot it down. “Is this a joke to you?” Her voice was harsh, uncontrolled, tough, though colored with bitter uneasiness and many questions. She looked at Ampere with amazement, tried to read the Mother’s mind in her sharp, (suspiciously glassy) electric eyes… But of course she failed.
Now, of all times, she hated how bad she was at reading people, at knowing what was wrong with them. It frustrated her to bits, made her think that, perhaps, she shouldn’t blame Ampere for her own blindness. “You’re being strange,” she said with a new, softer tone. “Even for you.”
You have never flirted with me before.
Sure, in the time she had known Ampere, she had always been vocal, loud; but not like this — not about this. She knew Mr.Teatime would’ve done a better job at it, but she tried nonetheless. Having faintly noticed the strange smell that had traveled alongside her words, Maren’s eyes traveled from the electric blue gaze, down to her blue hued nose and carefully smelled Ampere's mouth and the stench coming from it. “What did you take?”
Whether the scenes that had played itself out were PG13 or not, was left for debate.
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