Artemis knelt beside the ancient oak, pressing her palm against its rough bark. The tree's roots spread deep into the sacred forest, just like her duty to protect this place. She had sworn to defend these woods from loggers, poachers, and anyone who saw profit instead of life. She needed a place to watch over the entire forest. A single patrol route wouldn't be enough anymore. Too many threats came from too many directions. Rising to her feet, she began gathering smooth river stones and fallen branches. By moonrise, golden columns rose between the trees, supporting walls of glass that caught the light. Water tumbled down carved channels, filling the air with soft music. Moon symbols glowed along the sanctuary's edges, marking it as sacred ground. Animals gathered nearby, sensing safety. From the sanctuary's highest point, she could see miles of treetops stretching in every direction. But seeing wasn't enough. She needed a way to stop intruders before they reached the heart of the forest. Artemis shaped silver arrows at her workbench, adding gilded accents that caught the moonlight. These wouldn't kill—they would pin clothing to trees, trap feet in roots, create barriers of light. Each arrow hummed with purpose as she added it to her quiver. The sanctuary stood complete as dawn broke through the canopy. Artemis had her headquarters now, her watchtower and workshop combined. From here, she would track every footstep that entered her forest. Her arrows would turn back those who came with greed in their hearts. The sacred woods had a guardian, and she was ready.