The woman of the seas, the Roanne, took the phrase survival of the fittest at its most literal. In biology fitness refers to somethings ability to reproduce, but the Roanne took it in it's common form. Each one bred to withstand the trials of  Solterra's high seas,  facing outcast if they failed. Even the lowest houses among them could fight well enough to defend themselves. The Nemain and the Badb took that role most seriously, liopards, raised for battle, trained to fight. Saoirse was no exception. 

News of Solterras festival travelled to the Roanne quickly, but no event was more appetizing then the battles of Solonia, an event where they could prove their worth, and perhaps, with a new king on the throne, gain some favor among the court.  She was the first to slither out of their waters and shed her pelt, stringing it around her neck as a token of her heritage.  It offered no protection in battle, but it would not be undone. No true Roanne would dare leave such a thing unguarded in land, nor sea. 

She waited among the others, sizing up each competitor, violet eyes working over each and everyone, looking for weaknesses to exploit. Her ears twitched as they called in one Galileo, and she watched a man whos height rivalled her own lumber through the arch into the ring. 

"And may Saoirse follow" they butchered her name as did many landwalkers, mashing the letters together clumsily.  She waltzed out, glancing briefly at the crowds who had gathered to watch each round. A strong opponent to start, clearly a seasoned soldier himself. She narrowed her eyes, and waited. 

The bell chimed

And she was off, without missing a beat, she charged towards the center, ready for the spar to begin.

not the first attempt at a hit. just her getting ready.

@Galielo @Adonai