"Soft what nymph is this?" Dark waves matched the tree trunk beneath them while sweet rose graced her lips. She lay collapsed in the grass with the arrow dipped in red on her side.

"Let a spring rose not wilt in summer! lift her! for a sweet chick is not enfolded in a wing" Theseus watched his mother tend to the unconscious girl with soft eyes and touches, stroking hair back from the portrait face. She was pale and limp in the attendant's hold. Laid down on a bed she stirred but faintly. 

"Hello" Theseus restrained his instinct and watched the blue orbs that rushed wide at his voice. "Stay, though tell me how to call you" His eyes widened when she scratched a name on her skin with what were too long for nails. Rubbing the sore red left by her own touch he tried the letters on his tongue with uncertainty. "Philostrate" Her joy proved him correct in his estimate. He leaned back from her eyes  and introduced himself. "Theseus" Philostrate twisted her tongue to the letters.

"Theseus" She kissed his cheek as if a relative so that his court laughed. The Strange Rose made her entrance on his stage.