Through The Realms_Finding their Pack

How To Make An Enemy.

Nala's POV

I groaned and checked my watch as someone violently shook me awake. “What in Tartarus are you doing?! It's only 5:30!” I exclaimed swatting at whoever was trying to get me out of bed. Good luck with that. Under normal circumstances I only needed about an hour of sleep a night and lots of food. Unfortunately, I had been in my workplace until five o'clock putting the finishing touches on my improvement for Aunt Arty's bow and my axes. I had been hoping to be able to sleep till at least six but noooo someone had to wake me up!

“Common! We have got to get you some new clothes, yours are falling apart!” A female voice said. I reluctantly lifted my head and to strike a bargain.

“Get me something to eat first and we got ourselves a deal.” I said, flopping back down on my pillow.

The girl huffed at me, probably thinking that I was going to end up being a pain in the butt. Not that she's wrong, but still. “Fine,” she said shuffling around the cabin, “Here's some trail mix, Harley buys enough to last all year at the beginning of each summer. By the way, I'm Karen, I normally lead the girl campers since Harley sucks at it.”

I sat up to accept the trail mix from Karen and shook her hand. “Nala.” I say simply digging in to the trail mix. When I finished eating it I crawled out of bed still grumpy, I am not in any way a morning person. I would honestly rather have to stay up all night than deal with mornings. According to my dad, that’s normal for inventors, according to Artemis, I am the weirdest most messed up ten year old in the history of ten year olds. I think they are both completely right.

I look around surveying the cabin. Karen had shamelessly turned the lights on, but apparently that didn't matter because all my cabin mates had individual beds that were covered and password locked, Karen had only been able to wake me up because I had yet to set a password. My eyes scanned the rest of the cabin, absorbing every detail. The cabin was roomy and there were oil stains everywhere. There was a staircase in the back going up and down, from what I could see, the second floor stored tools while the staircase downward did who knows what. There was evidence of a lift in the center of the room so I can only assume that there was a secret room beneath; at least that was what I would do. In fact the entire place was eerily similar to how I would design it, and the room felt comforting in a way, as if the entire place was built by people with similar taste to my own, which it was. Oh, and there as a bathroom in the back corner of the room.

Next, I looked to see what Karen was doing. Karen was probably the only blond in Cabin Nine, I had noticed her from last night as she kind of stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the rest of my siblings. Karen was tall and skinny with a perfect smile and hazel eyes. She was the only person in our cabin who didn't have any grease stains and next to no callouses from working in the forges. She appeared to be built for artistic finesse not the heavy brutal work of the forges.

Karen was carefully shifting through loads of clothes, trying to find something my size. She turned around and looked me over again, pursing her lips. “What?” I said putting my hands on my hips.

“Nothing,” she said, turning back to the clothes. “It's just your so small, I can't find anything to fit you.”

I chuckled at the problem of the moment, it was the problem of my life. “Toss the smallest pair of jeans you got over here and I can alter them. I've had trouble finding small enough clothes my whole life.” I said, “Also, it doesn't matter how big the shirt is. I am used to wearing shirts three sizes too big.”

“Why on earth would you wear shirts three sizes to big!?” Karen asked tossing me a pair of jeans and continuing her search. She sounded shocked as if wearing clothes that don't fit properly was a grave atrocity. I decided to ignore her as she continued to jabber on about something or another, and set to work on making the jeans fit. In no time I was changed wearing a slightly tailored pair of jeans and a somewhat too large orange camp shirt that apparently used to belong to Harley.