The lady might be noticeable, but so is that fucking bird. If they weren't pretty sure that it'd a DTF they would not be coming closer. As it is, the little black spider that usually curls around their earring disappears inside it, leaving only the green gem. Rowan's pretty sure that it's too small to be eaten, but apparently it's taking no chances.

"You might not be dead, but I'm pretty sure I am. Still pretty sure it ain't no afterlife." They crouch down in the sand next to her so they're not standing over her, the skirt of their blue wooden swimming costume brushing the sand, the fake moustache on their upper lip twitching as they speak and straw boater shading their features. "No reason to take a shot at you in any case. I'm Rowan." They offer her a hand and a smile.