<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">Ayla walked in, rubbing her shoulder as though it were stiff, sitting down as she stretched her arm out, trying to work out the kink she'd developed, hand to hand training had been getting more intense lately, but she hadn't been able to use magic to soothe her sore muscles. This whole no magic thing was getting harder every day as she slowly discovered more and more that she couldn't do. Her brother at least was trying to be helpful, stripping her from doing something magical before she'd even done it. He had been progressing nicely in his training, and their evenings spent discussing the real history of Ravnica felt more like a fun conversation between three friends than an actual lesson. Still. She was feeling stifled, desperate to move on with her training.<br/>
</span><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a6ff4d">"That is a lot more paperwork than you usually have." </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">she observed, starting to slouch before sitting up straight, as though some invisible and inaudible woman were yelling at her about proper etiquette.</span>