The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, golden rays across the serene clearing by the pond that Dantos was sitting next to. The satyr reclined causally on a moss covered rock by the water’s edge. His shaggy legs were crossed and his curved horns glinted in the sunlight. In his hands he held a reed flute, from which he blew a few melodic notes into, creating a tune that mingled with the sounds of nature—chirping birds, buzzing insects and the occasional croak of a frog.

As he played, his eyes were half closed, lost in the music and the beauty of his surroundings. But suddenly, a new sound reached his keen ears: the soft crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot. His blue eyes snapped open as he halted his playing and he looked up, curiosity piqued.

Emerging from the forest’s edge was a human, a woman. She seemed completely oblivious to Dantos as she carried an earthen jug to the bank of the pond, bending down to dip the pottery into the water to collect it.

Dantos knew seducing a human meant trouble, Zeus himself had put a ban on it, but she was so enticing that he simply couldn’t help himself. After wetting his lips, he placed his flute back up against his mouth and began to play once more. The melody that came from the reeds was soft and beguiling, each note of the tune carried a hint of ancient magic, a promise of secret dreams and hidden desires. It was a song that spoke to the very soul, drawing the listener in and wrapping around her like a gentle breeze, guiding her steps towards the source. And with each step she took, the satyr’s tune became more intense, beckoning her to come closer still.