Cedar Sweep oh the sweet tune I miss

The woman trotted forward with eagerness in each step.

Ouraniós came close and initiated a tender embraced, snout brushing against her shoulder with sincere affection.

Themis, you say? The Alchemist repeated curiously.

With a small step back, she paused to observe. Then with a nod displaying finality of a thought, a chuff of approval sounded. The name suites you, my friend.