I don't really swim.

Rowan Chopiak walked around the grassy area of the lake. She never understood why people like the lake. It was so deep. But the beach was deeper. The lake wasn't actually that bad, Rowie just had a bad thing with deep water.

When she was little, her foster dad used to take her to work with him. Oliver was a fisherman so they would go out to the docks.Her brother went with them that one time. He thought it would be funny if Rowie could learn to swim right then and there. So, oblivously, he pushed the small girl into the cold Maine water. She couldn't call for help for she was mute. It took the fisherman five minutes to realise she was in there.

Now the sight of water makes the daughter of the god of silence shudder. She has tried to get into water again, but sometimes she would spaz out and admediently run out of the water. Rowan sighed, taking a seat underneath a tree.

Rowan looked up to see a boy. She read his lips to find out he said hi. Luckily for Rowan, he spoke slowly. A smile rolled off from her lips as she slowly waved in returned to him. THe daughter of Harpocrates hoped that he would not run off from her. But then again, why would her after a wave? Surely it would take the next set of hand gestures before he runs.

Rowan shook his hand gently but then soon released it. Her smile faded just a little, Rowan had no way to respond. She was at the lake, and her notepad didn't really have any place in her Aztec stlye bikini. She did locate a discarded pen near the tree. She wrote on her he hand, I'm Rowan, daughter of Harpocrates.