She was not customarily tardy for things of import, least fo all with Maren and the Sun, but her silly bird had gotten himself tangled and as she tried to extract him the hour wore on until she arrived in a huff of feathers and breath. She slid alongside the Crownless just in time to hear the Sun God's word on Kaos; words which did nothing to soothe her troubled soul on the matter, but she was thankful for their honesty all the same.

Since Kaos was a problem Ampere didn't feel fully equipped to deal with, she tried to settle on the much more manageable (yet still sizeable) issue of their home gradually falling away into the sea. "Since the island was not in as much risk when connected to the mainland, perhaps we can mimic that support somehow, without reconnecting it... for Gaucho's work to transform it into an island has been incredibly securing for our herd." She gave a wry smile, remembering the former Sultan's mad idea and passion for completing the work, despite some protests from his herd, herself included at times, "What if we could work the metal into a securing net of some kind around the exterior, or key points for support could have beams fit into place to help ward away the sea's prowess where the land is weakest?"

"Either way the task seems too monumental for just our forger and crafters to manager alone, however skilled." She gave a wry smile, indicating that while she had faith in them, she also recognized when divine intervention of a sort was necessary.

As they concluded on the matter one way or another however, and Maren's gentle voice (so much softer and hesitant than Ampere ever remembered hearing before) spoke up, Ampere's focus shifted to the Diviner, ready and willing to hear her speak. Although Isopia's attendance was alos noteworthy as a demigodess, these halls would always truly belong to Maren, Diviner or not, and as such her word was always welcome.

So Ampere was surprised when Maen's voice didn't at first come, but rather hung on the silence as she let her gaze travel between them all, and with each passing moment it was as if a greater and greater weight were pressing down on Ampere. She could feel it in her bones, something significant was about to happen, but where Ampere was anticipating some news about having the Sun's second child or revolting against the island, she never could have prepared herself for what the tiger mare actually said.

In fact, Ampere was so astounded that at first she could nothing but let her mouth lie agape, eyes wide in shock and disbelief as Maren continued to speak, each word a wound carving itself deeper into Ampere's heart until finally the pain was greater than her astonishment.

"Maren!" Ampere cried out suddenly, the sound plaintative, like a child's. "Let us help you! Whatever you're searching for, I'm sure it is here, in your home."
Of course, there was a certain edge of anger to Ampere, a heat that rose up steadily once it burned through the layers of hurt and denial.
"Surely you wouldn't leave now, at a time like this?" a last ditcgh attempt, a begger disguised with a knife named guilt.

Yet whatever protests she made, the Crownless seemed not to here, as stubborn and set in her ways as ever - something Ampere adored about her as much as she cursed. Unlike Megaera, challenging the Crownless to stay would not end in a solidified friendship, and so Ampere could only watch those small wings curl about a pale face as the Crownless, the godless, departed.

Although not as dear to her as Gaucho, there was almost something just as worse in this loss, because this one was intentional, and that perhaps hurt most of all. Even if she understood the need to leave, to find, to remember, even if she would never hold it against Maren the day that she returned, Ampere wasn't okay with actually surviving through the process.
She exhaled loudly, wings and tail feathers sleek and flat at her sides.