The fox came to its prey, it was a child. No more than a week old, left alone in the snow, in the middle of the woods. The tiny babe reached it's hands up, and touched the cold wet snout of the fox. The fox started to growl, its slim sharp fangs showing. The fox lifted its sharp claws and slashed at the child, its claws tearing into the soft fragile skin of the baby's neck. The child let out a bloodcurdling scream, and in mere seconds the fox ran at the sight of the goddess. Artemis lowered her bow as the fox ran, she knelt by the bleeding child's side. The goddess knew the child would soon die, she unsheathed her dagger, and raised it above her own hand. Cutting the blade against her own skin, her golden blood spilling out of her palm. The goddess held her palm against the child's neck, the ichor working it's magic. The wounds were now closed, and the blood of the goddess ran through the child's veins.