Dawnlark Plains why men great 'til they gotta be great?

She saw the multi-hued wolf from a distance; her head turned slightly to better take him in. When it was clear that he wasn't on his way, and continued to stare, Artemis changed course with a huff, heading in his direction. Her tail flagged proudly as she approached—no distance from the sea would quell the fire of a Nereid, especially around a man. No. . .a boy.

What are you looking at? she asked, although it came out strange and stilted in her heavy accent, rather than the glib opener it would have been in her mother tongue. Her vivid gaze surveyed him impassively, her breathing only slightly faster than normal from the run.

She was in good shape, and she knew it well. If this one caused trouble, Artemis was sure she could handle it.