Grover was sniffing the wind, looking nervous. He fished out his acorns and threw them into the sand, then played his pipes. They rearranged themselves in a pattern that made no sense to me, but Grover looked concerned. <br />"That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." <br />"Which one is me?" I asked. <br />"The little deformed one," Zoe suggested. <br />"Oh, shut up.