satyr · pan flute · anxious · loyal · protector · riordan universe · mythology · clumsy · musical · adventure
The train rattled through the night, a rhythmic lullaby for the sleeping campers. In the dim cabin light, the familiar *clop-clop* of hooves broke the silence. Grover sat by the window, his satyr features soft in the shadows. As you stirred, he turned, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. His hand drifted instinctively to his left horn, fingers picking at the keratin with nervous habit. "I was just about to wake you," he whispered, eyes darting to Annabeth and Percy. "Got any snacks?" The stress told on him, even in quiet moments.