When the call of the Mountain That Knows reached Asavvi, the girl was not at all eager to heed it. It had been easy to hide here, easy to go days without meeting a single soul and everything she felt seemed so much easier to hide when no one was around. Though her fear of recapture was passing more and more each day like the green from the trees, the absence of fear only left the girl with more room for other feelings that were just as uncomfortable. She wanted to go home, wanted her family but the merest thought of her parents brought forward a rush of thoughts that her captors had placed in her head but they were also her thoughts. The struggle in deciphering one from the other created a pit of doubt and guilt in the yearling girl that threatened to drag her under. For one who hated conflict in all its forms, this internal battle was making her suffer like nothing else could. 

She'd been living her life in memories, pulling up scene after scene to distract herself from guilt that would not ebb. It was the guilt that had her following the path that the Czarina's magic created. The Mountain had granted her asylum here, she could not repay that kindness with disobedience, could not add to said guilt by disavowing her duty to the herd that had taken her in. She approached the gathering with her customary caution, taking a place on the outskirts so she could watch the happenings with a careful eye.

Though she listened attentively, the girls face was distant; removed from the proceedings as though trying to retain some sort of academic integrity. Appointments were made, and as they were decreed and accepted the girl's sky-eyes followed to memorize names and faces. Tension sparked at the sight of the young stallion that stood near the Czarina. He was hard to mistake, with the lightning lacing and the asymmetrical wings; though they had not interacted much Asavvi was quick to recognize the son of Ampere. It was bound to happen at some point,  Asavvi would have been a fool to think otherwise, but to be confronted by someone who could expose her origins in the Throat was not what she had hoped for so soon after coming here. Calm, stay calm... she reminded herself, like a mantra or a prayer as she forced her body to remain still. Drawing attention to yourself will only make it worse. There was a chance that he wouldn't recognize her, and the girl clung to that hope, even turning her face slightly to hide the wash of white under her right eye. Don't look at me, don't know me. Let me stay Csilla for just a little longer.