The small colt leans into her, and for the first time Aela's life, she feels herself falling in love with something that is a kind of different dream for the future.
She continues to smooth his mane, thinking that if he bedded down here, they could both rest for a few hours before they made the short journey to the Pampas. But he is a child, and has a curiousity that rivals the short span of his young life. Just as his flames did, his inquisitive nature endears him to her. Aela has always viewed the world through a similar lens, wanting to know how powers worked. What happened when two different types of magicks were pitted against the other. How a Magician was even created.
Aela lowers her slender head again, enveloping Fyr in a light embrace. One with enough room that he could seek more, if he wished to. Or space, if that was what he wanted. But the palomino angles her head to the boy and smiles, taking note of the shadows swirling off his skin like fog. Her heart swelled with pride, for the child who was made of more than just fire and flame.
For this child who was hers.
"None of that," Aela says, addressing his last question first. She had never been adressed as ma'am in the entirety of her life and certainly wouldn't start now. "You can call me Aela," she tells him, while eyeing the supernatural way that the ash below her had started to move. Only when she was certain that it doesn't pose a threat to her or Fyr, Aela continued. "And I can teach you to be all of those things." The gold-striped mare told him. She had never settled for herself; Aela was always striving to be better than she was.
It was something she hoped that Fyr would adopt as well, given time.
"I know your name because they call me terrible, too." Her smile quirks, like she was tugging the boy towards a secret only the two of them knew. "I can see things that others can't - like your name - and sometimes others don't understand the magic behind it, so they call what they don't know terrible instead."
They doused your soul in water,
but the flames raged higher.
And they called you devil's daughter,
such a pretty liar.
@Fyr