Mairead was humming softly to herself as she waited outside the inn room door for the Inspector to tidy himself up, one that she'd heard a wandering man with an accordion playing along the street last night (she had a knack for picking up the notes of tunes she'd never heard before), and when the Inspector did emerge, she kept back a smirk at how he'd 'tidied himself up', as she was hardly much better. Life in the woods didn't exactly require one to be well-kept in appearance, so Mairead's appearance was a rather rough one, though underneath the smudges of dirt and her somewhat-tangled hair, there was a woman who could be taken as pretty if one looked long enough.

"Lead the way, then," she replied, gesturing for the Inspector to go first. After all, might as well let him keep what dignity he could after puking like that in front of her. She doubted she'd ever forget the stench, but she shoved the horrid memory aside to focus on more important matters, such as the entire reason she was here in Whitby: to find her father.