Profile of 1Saoirse

a daughter of the full mother-moon, saoirse is spun from the pale flax and crisp white in soft folds enrobing her subtle curves. a lush, shining surface of a gilded pearl, a pale gift for the moon from the adoring sea who grew changeful in her absence. rare shades of rose gold and honed bronze adorn steady pale legs, spanning in a crest at the pinnacle of her shoulder-blades, darkening in some places in rare onyx. it finds accompaniment, too, in the cinnamon shades that billow against the swell of her thighs. she is no titaness or fearsome ursine queen, but athletic and streamlined to be built in lean muscle honed against soft, womanly curves. average, almost — neither built truly for fury of warfare or for the huntress’ exploits, but instead fit for something in between. there is a lightness in the curves of her face, one hewn with an almost childish tweak in the pale contours. tigers crouching in her dark eyes. tiger’s eye rimmed in deep charcoal, a soulfully expressive stare is made of a rich mahogany with a trail of inlaid honey sweeping through the robust shade of ancient bark. it’s easy to find one trapped in the depths, embraced by the earthen warmth only to be caught by the amber ebb and flow. ( reference photo manip credit to dee, original picture is credited to ria on dawnthieves )

Spirited and passionate, Saoirse dives into life with a fervent heart and a thirst for the thrill. Even with a mind hell bent on vengeance for everything she has lost, there are still parts of her that crave both the normalcies of a settled life as well as the intricacies of a life well lived. Stubborn as a mule and opinionated, it will take an act of the mother moon or the fae to transform her opinions to a different way of thinking. Though she possesses a certain natural charm and engaging nature, it hardens in the face of adversity or in the presence of the enemy for she will suffer no fools. But this does not mean she is foolish or impetuous -- she's far too clever for that and despite a fiery soul, she keeps her temper in check. Resourceful and a quick thinker, she is more than capable of manuevering in and out of trouble with the finesse of a Scottish wildcat. With a mind sharp as a tack but devouring like a sponge, she utilizes well the teaching of her clan and her parents to make her way through life - healings for a price, drugs and illicit goods to be peddled, mead to be brewed - she does what she must to survive. Utterly devoted to her family and those that she considers a friend or companion, she will move heaven and earth in order to protect what is close to her heart. (to be expanded <3)

It would seem to be that fate drew Helene Grosvenor, an accomplished healer and mainlander, into the warm embrace of Cormac, the soon to be chieftain of Clan Mackenzie. Opinionated and tenacious, there was a tenderness to Helene that made her a singular woman — a stark need to care and to nurture met with a rebel’s soul and a romantic’s heart. Her father was an imperialist and was endlessly loyal to the crown, so much so that it was stifling. Her mother having died in childbirth and no siblings to be accounted for, there was no buffer against her father. Under the tight imprint of his thumb, Helene could not breathe and she was made to suffer his obsessions and cruel nature — but never in silence. Defiant by nature, Helene ran and was often dragged back to the false security of her father’s estate. Once there, she’d be beaten and force-fed her father’s hatred until the sun would rise one morn, and she’d be gone again. From there it was a vicious cycle.

That was until she met him.

The firstborn son of the aging Malcolm Mackenzie, Cormac was a driving force for his clan and a stalwart supporter of the security of the Highlands and their way of life. A bonny fighter and a natural born leader with a bold heart and a gregarious nature, it was his loyalty to kin and kith which most defined him. And it was because of this stubborn sense of loyalty that his path would cross with his future wife. Wounded following a raid for the honor of a wounded clanswoman, Helene found him in near ruin while in the thick of yet another escape from her father’s clutches. And though his kin much preferred to slit her throat and be on with it, she would not be deterred from healing him and agreed to be taken with them.

Little did she know that she had managed to wrap Cormac wholly around her dainty paw. Though the clan considered her their captive, it was he who was captive. Their courtship was truly one-sided at first, love was the last thing on Helene’s mind as she navigated through clan politics and distrust to get herself situated into something that she could consider freedom, a life well lived. But he was dauntless and he found that charming a path to her heart didn’t take long. And when her father’s cronies came to collect her finally, she was deemed wed and untouchable.

It was the bond of a timeless love that ushered Saoirse Mairi Mackenzie kicking and screaming into the world, riding the trembles of a storming spring night alongside her sister Farrah and brother Malcolm. Their birth ushered in a light of hope and they were celebrated by their parents and kin alike. True Highlanders, their parents and clan endeavoured to teach the youth all aspects of life in the tension wrought lands. Cormac’s prowess in battle and politics honed their bodies and minds for warfare while Helene trained her children in the art of botany and healing - both a fine example of love and affection. And, in between the gaggle of Mackenzie clansmen, they learned the rest — superstitions and clan history, the art of mead making and other mood enhancements, hunting, gambling, thievery. And it was all in due course, for when the call had finally been sounded to rise up for the sake of the Highlands, the Mackenzie clan found themselves on the front lines.

A bloody and terrible battle, the aftermath resulted in the death of a great many of her family but it was the discovery of her parents, side by side as they had been in life, that drove her to the brink. She fled, scouring the highlands for what remained of her clan while doing what she must to survive this new tide. A fire burns in her belly, ready to be set ablaze whenever the time may come.