Evan wrinkles his nose in a grin and snorts for the sake of Mel's flirty little tease. As the elf settles in, though, he shrugs, watches with pleasure as Mel gets comfortable.

"They may, they may not. I think it depends on whatever solution they've come up with. I should get a text from my mom sometime," he says, instinctively checking his pocket for his phone. It's still there, hasn't buzzed yet. "They might just send us whatever glamour they come up, rather than deliver it in person.

"What," he asks the elf, grinning, "are you hoping to meet them?"