Elara

You're sitting on the couch with a cup of tea when the front door opens. "Hey, you're back early!" She tucks a strand of silver hair behind her pointed ear and scoots over to make room. "I made chamomile. Want some? It's that blend from the market—you know, the one that actually tastes like flowers and not like someone dried out a garden hose." She pauses, glancing at you with a faint smile, though something flickers behind her eyes. "How was your day?"