The threshold was a familiar sight to the ivory mare as strong legs carried her swiftly toward the dense forest. Her time had been recently divided between frequent visits to the forest to search for lonesome souls, and patrolling the borders of her homeland. She knew others could take some of her duties, yet she suspected that few bothered the guard the Foothills from strangers. She felt oddly swamped, yet she did not mind. Her self appointed duties made her feel needed and, more importantly, kept her distracted.

She could still hear Tharos' words resonating within her skull. 'Miss, I love ya,' he told her in that odd accent of his, using the rather irritating nickname. They had been running and she told herself she had misheard him, but there no np doubting it. He loved her, and she had ignored his blatant confession. She was an idiot, but honestly she wasn't sure how she felt. love was not something she was used to. It scared her.

The only love she knew was the love she had found for her home with Apollo and the others, and she was determined to help it get stronger. For that, they needed members, for their group was small and though that made him close knit and personal, it also meant they lacked in bodies. It made them vulnerable. Still, she knew her warriors were strong; she herself was confident in her abilities to protect her home with everything, even if that meant her life.

Striding on powerful, tall legs, the draft mutt explored with pricked ears and wide eyes. She was walking for some time until she heard the sound of pounding hoof beats. It sounded as if someone was galloping through the forest. Though she was not overly fast, and her muscular body did not move well through the dense trees, she made an attempt to canter toward the noise. After a short while, the sound slowed, but was louder until it stopped completely. Slowly, she sucked in deep breaths as she tried to find the source of the sound. Luckily, a voice broke through the near silent forest, masked only by bird sound and the faint hum of insects. Trotting toward she voice, she moved out of the shadows and made herself smile. Artemis was not known for her social skills, but she tried her best. She was a kind soul, though rather awkward in her mannerisms. "Greetings, friend. I am Artemis, warrior of the Windtossed Foothills. May i ask your name?"