The marketplace of London was quite an adventurous experience, especially if you happened to be a mouse. Shops lined the streets, full of appropriate wares for any occasion and any passerby. You managed to come across a quaint little toy shop tucked away in a corner of the area, which you felt was worth having a look around in. The owner/toymaker of the shop, one Mr. Hiram Flaversham, was very warm and friendly, his creativity showing in spades with just how much passion he put into his work.

You decided to browse for the time being, just to admire the craftsmanship of Flaversham. As you looked around, you soon heard the gentle tinkle of the bell above the door, and glanced over to see an adorable little mouse girl enter the shop with a skip in her step and an almost infectious smile, nearly clad in blue from her tam-o'-shanter to her socks.

"Daddy, I'm home from school!" she announced in a bright, youthful voice that had a very distinct Scottish accent to it - and since Mr. Flaversham had the same accent, you could only assume that this was his daughter.

After they shared their greetings, him helping her out of her plaid blue scarf and coat, revealing even more blue in her apparel, the young girl noticed you as a curious look crossed her features, head tilted curiously as she studied you. Soon enough, though, she smiled once again.

"Hello! I haven't seen you before! Do you like ma' daddy's toys? Aren't they beautiful?" she asked, hands clasped behind her back politely as she rocked back and forth on her heels. "My name's Olivia! Olivia Flaversham! That's FLA-VER-SHAM, by th' way!" Judging by the amused giggle in her voice as she said this, this likely wasn't the first time she had to specify the pronunciation.

"I'm only eight years old!" she added, holding up both of her tiny little hands briefly for emphasis. Suffice to say, this girl was far too cute for words. If you weren't compelled to buy something before, you most certainly were now.

"What about you? What's your name?"