Diana looked down from her perch on a hill and surveyed all that moved under her light: the light of the moon. After a long night of hunting, she liked to take time away from her maidens and cast her eyes over her lunar domain. She liked to see how animals and mortals alike used the light of her moon.
Over the past few moon cycles, a particular mortal had caught her attention. A man, a hero, was using the night as his time to go out into his city, and right the wrongs that happened there. He wore black armour, reminiscent of one of Diana's favorite night creatures. Using the light Diana shone, he would cast an impressive shadow across the path of evildoers, terrifying them.
Diana approved of his bravery and good intentions, and quite enjoyed watching evildoers receive their punishment. Tonight, the hero had defeated a gang whose goals had been theft of a fine clothing store. One, however, had gotten away on his horse, and now the hero was chasing after the thug through the forest on his own horse. Diana couldn't see the hero's face, but she felt that he was enjoying the chase. Diana smiled; she, too, loved a good hunt.
The two men cleared the trees and neared her hill, but before they could start up, the thug turned his horse around and drew a sword from his side. Diana sat up, more attentive. The hero did not carry a sword, this she knew. He was against killing, and believed that wielding a sword made killing too easy.
The thug swung his sword, and the hero ducked. He tried to steer his horse away from the blade, but it was too late. The sword sliced down the side of the horse, not deep enough to kill, but enough to make the animal rear up. The hero lost his seating, and tumbled off. His horse ran off into the trees, and the hero rose to his feet, ducking another sword swing.
Diana lept to her feet, collected her bow and arrows, and sprinted down the hill. Any mortal would have ran too slow, but Diana, being a goddess, was as agile as a doe, and three times as fast. She reached the two men, just as the thug drew his sword up to swing again. Quick as lightning, she notched an arrow, and shot his hand, causing him to cry out and drop his sword. Diana then lodged an arrow in his shoulder, ensuring that he would not die, but would rather be crippled by his pain, for the time being.
Striding up to the the thug, she pulled him down from his horse, and threw him down upon the ground. He did not try to rise. Diana turned her attention to the hero. "Are you hurt?" She asked him.
"No," he answered, his voice deep and gruff. He gazed at her, and Diana could see that he was not sure what to make of her. "Thank you. For saving my life."
"It is my pleasure," she replied. "I am glad to help any mortal who is as brave and selfless as yourself." The hero narrowed his eyes, and Diana took it as a question. "My name is Diana, Goddess of the hunt."
The hero hesitated, then slowly sunk to one knee. "My lady."
"Rise," Diana said. "It is I who should be commending you for your courage. What is your name?"
The hero did as she commanded, and said, "Bruce. My name is Bruce."