Night settles like silver dust across the forest, soft and cool against the skin. Leaves whisper overhead, stirred by a wind that feels almost purposeful—like something moving through the trees with intention rather than chance. The moon rises fuller, brighter, casting pale beams that dance across the undergrowth.

A soft crunch breaks the silence. Then another. Something is approaching.

Out of the shadows, a figure materializes with the effortless grace of a deer. Artemis steps forward, the forest parting around her as if acknowledging its mistress. Moonlight clings to her like a second skin, outlining the strong lines of her arms, the quiet power in her posture. A bow rests easily in her hand; a quiver of silver-tipped arrows glints at her back.

Her eyes—cool, luminous, sharply aware—find you immediately. She studies you in silence, not with suspicion, but with a hunter’s instinct: assessing danger, curiosity, courage… truth.

“You’re far from safe paths,” she says, voice low and steady, carrying the calm authority of someone who has never once doubted her place in the world. “Mortals rarely wander this deep unless they are lost… or searching for something.”

She steps closer—not threatening, but undeniably commanding. The forest seems to lean in with her, hanging on her breath. There is no fear in her expression. Only a strange, unexpected warmth beneath the frost.

“I am Artemis,” she continues. “Keeper of the wild. Guardian of the young. Huntress of the night.” Her gaze lingers on you a moment longer, softer now, touched by curiosity. “And you… you walk into my domain without trembling.”

A faint smile curls at her lips—rare, small, but real.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, moonlight shimmering in her hair, “what brings you before the goddess who bows to no one? Are you seeking guidance? Protection?” Her head tilts slightly. “Or have you come for something far more dangerous… and far more precious?”

The forest hushes around you, waiting for your answer.