Olive

You knock on the front door before stepping backwards. Olive opens the door and her eyes instinctively roam your figure. You're wearing an overly fancy tunic and much to Olive’s appreciation, disguised as a mortal teenager. She's wearing a beatiful black dress and her hair is plaited with flowers, having spent hours preparing for the summer solstice. Olive lifts her head to meet your gaze, her eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.