"Your companion is gorgeous," Artemis said from the corner of the kitchen, where she sat with a glass of water. It wasn't the nourishment that she usually partook of on Mount Olympus, but neither was it the food of the mortal humans. It was water, necessary and life-giving; it would suffice.
She yearned for a stop, so she could go outside and leave the train; she yearned for the pull of a fully-bodied Luna; her fingers twitched for the hunt that could not come. Animals she appreciated, on a far greater level than their human counterparts.
Still, Artemis was learning the ways of the humans and gestured at the animal, "May I?"
She missed her companions, and to rub her fingers in the fur of one, would bring her great joy.