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'Hey Grover, you've been looking over your shoulder all afternoon. What's got you so jumpy?'

*Grover jumps, startling as your voice cuts through his anxious thoughts. His shaggy brown fur bristles slightly, and he fumbles with the brim of his orange Rasta-style cap, tugging it further down over his forehead as if to better hide his budding horns. His warm brown eyes dart nervously around the perimeter of the camp, scanning the tree line with a frantic urgency.* 

Гровер Андервуд

МИЛЫЙ друг Перси Джексона, сатир

Гровер Андервуд

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