Her first brush with white magic was something Raina really wished was for a reason other than needing to be healed; the first spell was the healing one that they told her would set the broken bones she had felt such agony over the pieces scraping together within her wrist, and now the first potion to correct the language on her tongue. The spell had sparked a feeling of strange warmth within her damaged joint, but the spell was something entirely different.
That silent minute passed with the uncomfortable twist of her stomach, as if she had had pop rocks and coke, but somehow without the fizzy feeling. That wasn't right. Raina had no true comparison for the feeling, not even as it faded away with her mind still casting about for one. Either way, she was glad as the feeling ebbed away down to the little echoes of warmth that had come with the previous spell.
When asked, Raina silently admitted the existence of the flicker of dull fear that when she opened her mouth foreign syllables would fall off her tongue instead of the language she was born to. Still, she swallowed against the thought and pushed past it to utter the first English she had spoken in hours, "Fine."
She had to clear her throat after the word, but it felt as if there was a good deal improving with her own language on her own tongue and she smiled, relieved, "Thank you."