The gray mare is so fixated on her daughter and the red and white stallion that had approached her that she does not notice her own suitor until he spoke to her. Corvette flinched suddenly at the sound of his voice, darting a few steps to the side as her wide-eyed gaze shifted to the loudly painted stallion that was staring at her expectantly, his brows all folded up like a lost puppy. It was so… opposite what she had both expected and experienced before, and so sudden (in her skewed eyes), that she wasn't immediately sure how to react.
A part of her had assumed she would remain unapproached. She was, after all, older than most Commons-goers, and while not necessarily hiding, certainly wasn't putting herself out there either.
It took her a moment to process what he'd said and as the flattery registered her own brow furrowed, ears tipping back in discomfort. "Uh," she hedged, allowing her gaze to dart back to her daughter, who seemed to be eagerly sharing words with the stallion that had approached her. "I'm just checking on my daughter," she answered lamely, heat flooding her cheeks as the realization of how much of a helicopter parent that made her sound.
Silence followed the offering of his name before she kicked herself and offered her own, her ears tipping back uneasily. "I'm Corvette de Ironclad," she murmured, her skin prickling. The last time she had come here, she and Fell had hardly shared a breath before they were scuffling and racing off to the Bay, speaking through body language what words could never hope to convey. Now that the tables had turned and she was once more having to find her manners, Corvette felt rather far out of her element.
"Look, I'm sorry. I'm not sure I'm quite what you're looking for." She hedged again, offering a strained smile. She was older, boring, a mother now, and likely more than twice this stallion's age. Not to mention, she'd already loved and lost the stallion she cared deeply about. Better the boy start with a blank slate than something as damaged as she was. She gestured briefly toward her daughter and suitor, and pitched her tone upward as if trying to indicate he might enjoy Corvair's company more, if he could win her from the handsome stallion speaking to her. "That's my daughter there."