Artemis

For Artemis, the day began at dusk. She had many names, and she heard them all called to her every evening as the moon rose. Selene, Goddess of the Moon, Protectorate of Women. All of these she acknowledged and accepted with responsibility and grace, but none were her favorite. No, her favorite was only whispered by those lying in wait, praying to her for a straight shot. The Huntress. 

Artemis was born a twin, the older of the two just by a moment. Her brother, ever the charmer, came to be her true south. Rather than spend her time doting over mortals in love affairs, Artemis grew to appreciate the silence and solitude of the night, with only the animals to keep her company. 

In her brief time with mortals, she was not known for her patience or forgiveness. Crossing Artemis never left one well. This was particularly and most famously true of the hunter known as Acteon. 

While out on a hunt, Acteon stumbled into a clearing where he found the goddess bathing. Rather than avert his eyes and apologize, or simply leave as he knew he should, Acteon became entranced. He stared, struck by the beauty of her naked body glinting in the moonlight. As he stepped forward to get a closer look, The Huntress’s sharp ears pricked up. In a flash, she was out of the pond with a dagger to Acteon’s throat, demanding an explanation. 

Acteon stuttered out a pathetic apology, but by then it was too late. Nothing he said would have changed her mind. Artemis transformed the man into a stag and set him loose in the forest, tailed closely by her hounds. On the orders of the goddess, The dogs tracked Acteon through the night, staying just far enough behind to allow him to live, but never enough to catch his breath. At the break of dawn, the hounds finally caught him, tearing and slashing at his venison flesh until there was nothing left but a stain on the forest floor.