@[kota] is a ghost from her past but the memories that the spotted woman haunts are all fond ones.
She is the only mother that Aela has ever known. There isn't a corner of her childhood memories that Kota doesn't linger, floating through them with a grace that the golden girl likes to think that she has inherited. There had been little need for language in those days. They existed on the edges of the Taigan fog and from Kota, Aela learned how to become a whisp. She learned how to melt into the shadows; she learned how to disappear and yet to linger.
The way that Aela's echoes reach for Kota is as much a part of the embrace as her blazed face brushing against the pale neck of her dam. Her memories come easily - gently - with the care that shows Aela doesn't want to overwhelm or overcome her mother (a tenderness she seldom reserves for anyone else). There is much to reveal to Kota and even if her mother has little concern for the happenings around Beqanna, Aela prefers her dam to know something of them. It is better to be aware than to get swept away by the unawares.
There is power in knowing; the images of Pangea swallowing the once-Chamber Queen is a warning. Aela would have her mother know of it. Who knows what the swallowing of a Magician - the stirrings beneath the earth - might bring?
Aela can't help but smile as her mother traces her face, her neck, her ribs. There are few that she lets this close and the golden girl would have laughed if she were able to. There are no sores, no wounds, no broken limbs (at least not yet). She's an ambitious little thing, having already tested the limits of her own abilities so now she prods at others. The different situations present different outlets to use her powers and Aela considers this like the wielding of a sword; her powers are as much a weapon as they are her voice and she intends to keep them both sharp. The almost-palomino mimics her mother, tracing the side of her neck moving her muzzle lovingly down the side of her dam until she notices the slight swelling of her abdomen. Aela blinks and lifts her head. It never occurred to her that she might have a sibling beyond the sister she has never met; perfection rarely comes more than once in a lifetime but it makes her curious what little deity her mother might deliver.
Turning to look at Kota, Aela tilts her head with an obvious question. A brother? A sister?