Octavius left the pack house to do rounds with the guard an hour ago, so I've been flipping through channels on his giant screen television. I'm currently laying on the couch in a tank top and sweats, stuck between The Bachelor and reruns of Friends, slumped on the living room couch. I shift around the couch every few seconds, my mind a little stir crazy.

"I'M SO BORED." I groan out loud, and I stand up, stretching like a cat after a long nap. I stumble out of the room, rubbing my eyes as I enter the large front foyer. I start to go towards my room when I hear a light shuffling and I freeze.

I stay still and silent, waiting for another noise. I hear a clanging and a few clinks coming from the direction of the kitchen, and I grab a fire poker from the fireplace nearby and creep towards the open fridge, and pounce.

"AHH!" The intruder screams, and I stop with the poker in my raised fist.

"Klaude!" I scream, and throw the poker to the side. "I could have killed you!"

"Is this how you treat your guests?" He gasps, placing a hand to his chest and puffing. "Jesus, woman, are you part ninja or something?"

"Why are you here?" I shout, throwing my hands out in confusion.

"What does it look like?" He holds up the grapes in his hands. "I'm hungry, and Phoebe always gives Tavi the best fruit."

"B-but how the hell did you get in here? Octavius locked the door when he left."

"Lock shmock," He scoffs with a wave of his grape filled hand. "If it's a door, it's gonna open for Klaude." He puffs out his chest like a superhero posing for a statue.

"Fine, but make sure to close the fridge when you're done." I turn to go back to my tv watching. But Klaude has other plans, because he trails behind me like a happy puppy.

"So, what are we doing?" He says in a sing song voice.

"I am watching tv, and you are leaving." I sing back and he laughs.

"Oh, I like you, you're funny." He races past me, throwing himself on the couch, taking up most of it with his long, lanky legs.

"Not like I wanted to sit down or anything." I pout.

"Good." He picks up the remote, turning the tv back on. "So what are we watching?" He flips through the channels quickly, humming as he does so.

"The Bachelor, it's the final episode." I say, and smack him lightly when he gets to the right channel.

"Ugh, but I hate the bachelor." He whines, and is about to change the channel when I grab his arm.

"You're in my house, kid."

"I'm pretty sure I'm older than you." He snickers.

"Do you want to have a black eye?" I threaten, squinting my eyes at him dangerously.

"Alright Alright." He tosses the remote at me. "You are an aggressive one, I like you." and I smile slightly in triumph.

"I can't believe he chose her!" I shout, waving my arm at the screen.

"Believe it, woman!" Klaude shouts at me, standing up to do a little victory dance.

"Oh, you just guessed correctly, I demand a recount!" I pout and cross my arms over my chest.

"Na Na!"

"You're such a child!"

"Am not!"

"Seriously?"

"Come on, I had to."

"What are we gonna watch now?" he asks, turning back towards the tv.

"Friends?" I suggest, sitting on the coffee table.

"Ugh." He groans. "Naw, Die Hard is on let's watch that, super manly." He flexes a thin muscle.

"No way, I hate that movie, I used to have to watch it with my cousin." I try to grab the remote out of his hand, but he pulls it away, quickly.

"Oh, no you don't. You chose the bachelor, it's the man's turn now."

"Ok, let me know when you find one." I retort, raising my eyebrows at him.

"You did not go there."

"Yes I did."

Klaude and I are now both standing up, me on my tip toes trying to glare eye to eye.

"How are we gonna settle this, huh?" He asks, puffing himself up to as tall as he can go.

"Arm wrestle!" I shout.

"No way!" He shouts, backing away.

"What, too chicken?" I bend my arms, making mock chicken noises.

"Fine, but be ready to lose."

"Oh, don't worry I won't." I place my elbow on the coffee table, grasping his hand in mine and readying myself. I mentally smirk, I know how to win this game. I have my plan ready in my head.

"Alright, on three okay?" He asks, and I nod.

"One, two, three!" On three, I lung across the table and tackle him, climbing on top of him and trying to wrestle the remote control out of his grip.

We roll a few times, fighting like two pups in play. I almost have the remote completely out of his hand when a bellowing growl echoes through the room.

At the door is standing a very big and very angry, Alpha Octavius.

Oh crap.