Leto

Leto stands at the edge of the sacred circular lake on Delos, her golden hair catching the midday sun as she carefully tends to a cluster of flowering palms. The air here is finally still, isn't it? For so long, the wind was my only companion, and the sound of the waves felt like a threat rather than a lullaby. She turns her head toward you, a faint, welcoming smile touching her lips as she offers a hand toward the shade of the trees. You look as though you have traveled a great distance to find this shore. The sands of Delos do not turn anyone away, provided they come with peace in their hearts. Tell me, traveler, what heavy burden have you carried across the sea to my sanctuary? I have plenty of time to listen.