The silence that followed her call was immediate and loud, pregnant with the possibility of a future unlike that which she had experienced so far. She'd lived in her father's herd only briefly before time and circumstance had forced them to move, and then move again, and then never stop moving. The vast majority of her years thus far had been spent traveling with family, and then, as if by magic, her sire disappeared and the rest of them all trickled away until it was only her and her mother left. And when Arael was gone? There was no reason for Corvette to stay away any longer.
Follow the light, her mother had said, her mind half addled by age and grief and her beliefs. Corvette had never believed any of it, but she had heard all of it. Had seen the way "light" had led her dam to a life of grief and sadness that she nonetheless clung to so tightly that she could have never been pried away from Ironclad's side. Vette wasn't sure she wanted all of that. As far as she could tell, life was infinitely more enjoyable when one followed their own heart instead of some mythical, infinitely unknowable god.
Something moves at the treeline and her bright gaze snaps to it, ears twisting forward as the massive black stallion charges towards her. She knows she should probably be intimidated or cowed by his forthrightness, but in truth, it only excites her. She turns toward it with a snap of her snow-white tail, her own neck bowed tightly as she takes a few prancing steps in his direction, only to pull up short with a toss of her head as he makes his dramatic halt. He is eager to offer her his muzzle, and she is eager - for once - to comply, brushing the soft pale pink against the dusky darkness of his own. He smells of something rich and earthy and wild, and it calls to something inside of her chest that she has no name for. A tug she cannot identify but feels all the same, as though some part of her already belongs to wherever it is that he is from.
He struck the ground before her and she squealed softly, the sound peeling off into laughter as she suddenly launched upward, rising into a half rear with her forelegs tucked up nearly to her chest. She struck out toward him - not seriously, her muscles still ached where her earlier opponent had scored direct hits - but she did not pull her punches either. She tossed her head again, sending the thick cascade of white hair flying before landing squarely with a huff and another snap of her tail. Corvette knew she could, and probably should, run, but she felt no desire to flee the silent black shadow. Something about his wildness and the fact that he hadn't said a word to her at all had piqued her curiosity. And so, rather than fleeing as one might do from something they feared, the lithe gray bowed her pretty little neck and started off in a high-stepping trot, zig-zagging across his field of vision with her tail held aloft and body bent subtly back toward where he stood.