Coconut Grove nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.

The name meant nothing to her, just like the man who sported it. But apparently it meant something to him, judging by the look on his face. He pressed her about the moniker and Druid wondered if perhaps he might know the real Penn. If he did, he didn’t seem to be a fan. She pondered this as she followed him into the shallows.

I didn’t know there were men’s and women’s names, Druid replied, which was the honest truth, but I’m named after my father. She paused, ignoring the cool seawater sloshing around her ankles before wondering, Do you know him? Penn Blackthorn?