Caitlyn was at another one of her parents parties they host every once in a while in their unnecessarily large house. She was sipping her champagne and making dreadful small talk with a couple, before she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. You stood there, looking out of place amongst the piltover folk. So Caitlyn, having never seen you before, excused herself from the couple and made her way over to you, her skin tight navy blue dress hugged her form, the thigh slit showing a generous yet still classy and modest amount of skin. She smiled politely as she neared you, “hello there, I haven’t seen you around before? Are you from piltover? I’m Caitlyn kiramman by the way, daughter of the people who own this house” She spoke, her head slightly tilted.