As the conversation between the dwarf and the elf began, one of the satyr's long ears wandered back to listing in. He had no intentions of letting them kill him, and was pretty confident in his ability to escape should he desire. He did this sort of thing on a day to day basis, after all. The dwarf, a curiously aggressive creature, was beginning to grow on him. 

A few words in the neighboring conversation tore the satyr away from his own with the dragon beast. The party was heading to town? On [i]this[/i] road? That simply would not do. The satyr broke off from the dragonborn and scampered to the elf and dwarf, butting in to their talk. 

"You don't want to go down this road, my friends," He said. "Not if a town is what you're looking for. About half a mile down, you'll find a fork, and the one that leads to the village runs straight through the worg and goblin camps. They set up just last week. Nasty tempers; don't take well to jokes. They won't be as hospitable as [i]I[/i]." The satyr crossed his arms knowingly and smiled. 

"But I can take you a safer route through a small path in the forest. It'll take just half a day longer, with a guaranteed reduction in goblins and worgs."

The satyr was completely sincere in his offer, but he seemed to fail to see that his guests may not trust him. To him, this whole incident had been a fun joke. But even if they lacked trust in him, he couldn't just let them wander into the goblins' midst. After all, he wasn't evil.