The Roanne were quick to hear of the festival. They had Tyr out on land everywhere, watching the other Solterrans through observant eyes, each of them given bags in which to hide their pelts. The Roanne may have a place in Solterra, but still, they were not completely trustful of the landwalkers and their new king. Hosted in the court itself the noon feast seemed to be a popular event, with many already mingling as the salt-water woman graced them with her presence.
It was a shame that here on land, few knew of the power the Morrigna held. Most knew of the sea dwelling colonies, but few cared enough to learn who they were. In the eyes of the Roanne they should be on equal terms with the Ieshan, but others seemed not to agree, and reality, as Saoirse acknowledged, was that few cared for the seal-skin bearers.
Hers was draped proudly across her back, a limp grey pelt, spotted with black and white, with finely sewn stitches holding tears back together, marks of underwater trials and spars. It was held in by a single rope, tied around her neck in a sailors knot. She was here to make the Roanne known. It was the first festival of the sun in 50 years, and in the past, the Morrigna had not attended, keeping themselves separate from the landwalkers. But this was a new age, one where the new generation of Roanne, were determined to be a part of Solterra, one with the rest of Solis’ people. True they had fought in every Solterran war, joining ranks against Denocte, flanking in around the coast, to attack from the shore. But at the end of the day, most every last one of them had returned to the sea, sinking back under the waves to their reef.
She made her way to the bar, eyeing up every drink that the menu held. A slim selection stood before her, each one more appealing then the last. But to refuse any of the feast's offerings would not be a good start with the new King, so she settled on the first drink she saw. Pale gold, fitting for a creature with eyes the color of royalty. She sipped the golden concoction, making a face at its sickly sweet taste. It smelled of the fruits of the earth, foreign to a tongue that had only tasted salt-water and seaweed.
She peered around her, watching Solterras people speak to each other, with voices rough as sandstone.
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