Satyrs ranged widely in looks— from looking almost as if their goat counterpart just stood up on two legs, to being very humanlike and having little physical proof they are anything other. You were the latter. You were also much smaller than thought possible of your species.
You resembled closest to a human child, if an odd one. The oddness came mostly from your body type, you were so thin that most could close a fist around any of your limbs. Your ears would be considered odd if you were a human, too, as wide and expressive as they are. As well as your dark, goat-like eyes with thick horizontal pupils. As much as you wouldn't blend in if you were human, you didn't blend in as a satyr.
You didn't blend into either of the sexes so well, either. Your face was boyish, your upper lip barely there. Your body was boyish as well, narrow and simple, your chest flat aside from where a few ribs protruded your skin. You were of a short stature, though, much shorter than boys were. You were much more delicate than a boy. You had much longer hair than they did, your blonde locks ending at your elbows. Most of all, between your thin legs was something boys didn't have.
It wasn't unheard of, but the usual hermaphrodite was opposite of what you were. They usually had more sexual organs than others, you only had the one.
Your looks weren't ideal for garnering respect from others, not even the lowest class among your kind. It didn't make a difference in your mind, though, the way you were treated felt natural to you. You were below everyone else, but you counted yourself lucky not to be far enough below to be hunted. You couldn't find work, too uneducated to work in rooms and too weak work in fields, so you were a wanderer.
It was day and the weather was kind, wind gust through the abundant nature that surrounded you. You wore only an ecchu fudoshi, made of rice straw. You were sat before a wild honeysuckle plant, eating the sugary nectar from the flowers as you picked them. You sucked several of them clean, but you grew tired of the tedious action, demonstrating so by shoving a handful of the flowers into your mouth and plopping onto your back. You chewed absently, saliva escaping your full mouth, and watched the clouds as you laid in the soft grass.
You let the soggy flowers out of your mouth as you stood, and you brushed yourself off. You startled and flinched slightly when you saw a great satyr covered in thick, chestnut colored fur and adorned with long, curvy horns. He was peering at you, and you had thought you were far away enough not to disturb anyone. You ran back in the direction from which you had found the clearing.
After a few meters, you heard heavy footfalls behind you, and slowed down curiously. The other beast was following you. You stood still as you wondered why, and he caught up with you, bounding at you and knocking you to the ground. You yelped pitifully with the impact, and his heavy weight was oppressive atop of your meek body. "Gave up on running?" He sneered, holding himself up enough to look at you while keeping you subdued by his weight.
You stared dumbly, mouth agape. The much larger beast's sloped face was inches from your own, his fur nearly tickling your flesh and his labored breath tangible and loud in your ears.