Though she is Solterran through and through, she sticks out in the desert like a sore thumb. She walks on the sand with legs seemingly to long for her body, nearly floating over the earth. The shape of muscles catching the sunlight, red gleaming nearly gold under it's beam. Still though, her presence in the desert is wrong, foreign. She is a creature of the sea, and those who know the Roanne, know that they would rather stick to the waves then prowl then lands.
But though they are Roanne first, they are still dutifully bound to the earth by Solis himself, sworn still to serve Day court, as would anyone else. And as a sister, Saoirse is bound by duty to represent the Roanne throughout Solterra. So she continues to stalk through the desert towards the court, despite her obvious disdain. Sweat beads down from her coat, dripping from under the warm sealskin that rests over her back. Despite the heat, she will not take it off, wouldn't be caught dead without it.
She makes frequent trips to the capitol, if only to stay in the loop of Solterran news, the macha does too, and generally she is able to pry more out of the courts residents than the harsh Nemain standing at its entrance now. She enters with confidence, thankful for the cool darkness of the courts tunnels. She wanders it's corridors with no true purpose, simply listening around each corner for snippets of conversation that might bring news to her ears.
She catches bits and pieces, and slowly connects the red strings together. It seemed the new sovereign had finally taken root in Solterra. Adonai, a well suspected player.
