[hr][hr][h1][b][i][center][color=SlateBlue]Athanasia Theroux[/color] [/center][/i][/b][/h1] [center][img]https://c.photoshelter.com/img-get/I0000A111v6FSs48/s/750/750/tpee9740-3.jpg[/img][/center] [center] [b][color=SlateBlue]Location[/color][/b] Camp Half-Blood, E2 -> E3[/center] [hr][hr]

Athanasia considered Alannah's explanation of the powers one might receive from one's godly parent and found it rather dissatisfactory. The fact her friends rarely left graveyards and such was explained by that. She had long ago suspected them to be exactly what they were. Ghosts. The sad forlorn looks they had when she had left had made her want to stay and talk with them more, but her mother had always insisted. Graveyards were dangerous after night Mother had said. The ghosts who were friendly would be of little help against the boogeymen that went bump in the night. Shivering at a particularly nasty recollection, Athanasia eyed the rippling creek and tried to forget that horrifying night.

It wasn't that she didn't mind getting wet, but it seemed a little bit extreme. Especially if this was only a game. [color=SlateBlue]"Stab. Slash. Parry."[/color] She quipped at Arthur as she flipped her braid over one shoulder. A smug smile on her lips. [color=SlateBlue]"Mother insisted on me learning how to fight. I [i]begged[/i] her to let me learn about fencing."[/color] Though she was barely a novice, she still knew very well which end went into her opponent and where ideally to hit. It was more about the form and the practice now than the actual fighting. Ingrain the good habits early, her teacher had said. Whatever that meant. Though that seemed about to change. Stepping carefully, Athanasia tried to keep clear as much water as she could, glowering at the slippery rocks.