"To see her great-grandchildren come of age," she explains with a tilt of her head.

Saoirse cannot help but follow the unfamiliar woman's glance about. A part of curious what she might be thinking but denies herself actually asking and instead stands still, the river glass chiming as the wind blew softly around her.

The question is a curious one and she blinks before she shifts, glancing downwards one of the roads with a quiet hum. "That depends on the alienage. We all have our own customs and traditions... our own special rites to perform for the dead. I am sure that a Chantry sister might perhaps visit if they find time to bring themselves into Lowtown."