Aela no longer lingers in the inbetween.
Things either are or they aren't.
This is what her son still seems to struggle with, and as his golden mother tries to settle his unruly mane like she tries to settle his unruly emotions, Aela tries to think of the best way to help him. Her son will not grow up weak. He will not grow up wanting. This world will learn to yield to him or burn for it.
It's the other world that gives her a pause of concern, because she is unsure how to master both.
But they are worries for another time. She listens as Fyr describes his newest companion, a girl who had died before she had ever breathed. (A pity, perhaps. Or a blessing, given that so many would live only to have their hearts and throats ripped out.) This child is young, like her son. She had wanted to see the world that she was never given the chance to see.
A departed soul would have been normally been given little thought with Aela, but she's captured her young son's attention and is worth atleast that much.
There is more she misses. A brother, and her mother. The mention of Obscene surprises her, but Aela manages to conceal it beneath the tender expression she reserves for Fyr. An expression she manages to keep even as a frozen flower floats forward on the Pampas wind, urged on it seemed by the summoning magic of her son. The Seneschal moves away slightly, allowing the ghost the room to place her gift in his dark forelock.
"Help them how?" Aela asks the child, not necessarily interested in the reasoning but rather Fyr's want. "You give them a voice in a place where they otherwise aren't heard." She tries to cajoling him, wanting him to see his gift for the powerful ability it was. But perhaps he was right, she thinks.
What if he could do more than merely summon souls?
What if he could command them?
They doused your soul in water,
but the flames raged higher.
And they called you devil's daughter,
such a pretty liar.
@Fyr mother of the year right here