Halie's nipples hardened, excited in anticipation of the arrival of the priestesses. They were near, she could sense their presence at the outer edges of her sphere of influence. Inside her grotto Halie lie upon a bed stuffed with the feathers of swans, a gift of Aphrodite, Her grotto, which served as the source of the stream served her purposes well. Her living space was dry of course, the stream's waters rushed by. A pool of perfectly clear water formed at the foot of her bed, warmed by magical rocks fashioned by Hephaestus. The grotto was dimly lit by curious algae and growths along the cave walls, bathing the quarters in a purple and yellow hue. The entrance of the grotto was veiled by hanging vines of green leaves and dainty lavender blossoms whose scent drifted in on soft breezes.<br/><br/>Halie writhed and squirmed in anticipation. Never before could she recall being so fevered with lust. Her lovers would soon arrive, and Halie would be ready.<br/><br/>Outside the grotto, the sun shone warmly through the canopy of populars and oaks that cast over the grotto and grove. Butterflies and ladybugs fluttered and buzzed about, echoing the restlessness of their mistress. The rushing waters of the stream slowed gently, almost if it too waited, expectant. Blue birds and robins sang, but quietly and soothingly, they too sensed the impending arrival.<br/><br/>When the priestesses arrived, it would be time for Halie to emerge with the bowl. No greater enemies, both loathed and respected, would be joined by the charms of Halie guided by the hand of the Goddess of Love.