If Grusha was expecting Ampere's ire, she was sorely mistaken. She could not fault her daughter for her own flaws, least of all in the wake of Gaucho's death. His was an end that was more than a stallion, more than a lover, than a father, than a Sultan. His was an end to all of that, and his passing left ripples of grief that lapped greedily at their hearts and their consciousness. The Wildfire had been a presence, a force unmatched, and his absence was felt in the removal of such weight upon their lives.
So no, Ampere could not be angry, not in this.
The gentle word floating over to Ampere, so subtle and short, was so wholly significant to the blue mare that it laid a kiss upon. She turned with a quick, reactive manner, as though responding to nothing more than her name. Yet she stilled as she pivoted, neck craned against her shoulders, gaze peeking out over the top of her tucked wings. There her stare embraced Grusha, her little girl just standing in the sand as simple as could be.
Ampere's eyes pricked with moisture, her lips hung slack with surprise, and her wings drooped from her sides. Some guttural noise, like a bird's coo, rumbled in her chest as Ampere abruptly reanimated and rushed to complete her turn and close the gap between them. She strove to sling her neck around her daughter's (though their apparent height different meant that failed, so Ampere settled for tucking beneath instead) and her wings shot out to actively embrace the stoic girl. "Grusha," Ampere breathed against her, and it was the sound of relief, of comfort, of love. "I've been so worried about you... you and Tae both."
Ampere stood back, trying to compose herself better as she regarded her daughter with a broken smile. My, she has grown! Ampere though, proud. "I'm glad to see you, I've missed you. Have you been," Ampere struggled for a word. "Okay" seemed cheap, and "well" wasn't much better either.
"Coping?"
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