Shit. He was expecting Pan to go over there but not so quickly. With a muffled curse and a soft growl, Apollo strode over to Pan and yanked him back by the scruff of his shirt. "Haven't you ever heard of personal space? Gods, act normal for once, please?"
Sam turned to the girl and gave her a large apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for my nephew. He was dropped on his head as a child one too many times," Sam said to the girl, tightening his grip on Pan's collar. Ugh, when was the last time Pan bathed? There was a distinct goatish smell to him that was not pleasant. "And as you can see, he's continuing the brain damage," Sam added gesturing to the fading black eye on Pan's face.
"You'll have to excuse him. I'm Sam Parker, lead guitarist for Lyre, Lyre. I hope you're enjoying the show," Sam smiled charmingly at the girl.