Aela waits. She tries her hardest to be patient (but that is a hard thing to do when one has only had a year to measure time by and the air between the pair is charged with electric excitement.) The palomino-looking filly stands with those blue eyes bright and vibrant, trying to find the source of the Magic that Beyza claims likes to 'help'.
(Aela likes to help as well, but her Magic always seems more interested in aiding her rather than others - not that she minds overmuch.)
Her gaze widens and she swallows, a moment of trepidation as the mists move forward and eventually wrap around her throat. The yearling's heart starts to race and she looks up, peering into the timeless face of Beyza for support. The presence of the other steadies her and the Magician is the reason why the girl doesn't do more than shuffle her weight uneasily between her hooves, why she doesn't more than anxiously flick her flaxen tail from haunch to the other.
It feels like Taiga's fog drifting down her windpipe. When the mist disappears beneath her golden coat and wraps around her vocal cords, it feels no different than if she had taken a deep breath near the western shore of the Redwoods. A spot where the forest meets the ocean. It is cool and refreshing and Aela finds that the sensation is not an unpleasant one.
She tries - reaching - for a sound. In her excitement, perhaps she strains too much or aims too high (though Aela will always be destined for perfection). Nothing comes and her expression changes to disappointment. Why hadn't it worked? Had she done something wrong? She had felt the Magic. She had felt it and-
"Ay," the partial word slips from her pale lips. Lifting her shocked face to Beyza, the sound of her own voice surprised her. "Ayza," she says slowly and blinks at the marvel. "@[Beyza]," Aela finally says putting the word together and flashes a bright grin of accomplishment up to her companion.
Her first word.
MY BABY'S ALL GROWN UP AND TALKING