Being trapped in the Glade with fifty boys wasn't exactly an ideal situation. And, as expected, connections soon sprouted. Friendships bloomed, strong lines of trust and loyalty developing, as well as the occasion disagreements with others.

But there was also a sense of family, that everyone belonged and was welcome, despite the fear of the unknown from the Maze walls surrounding them. But there was a certain family bond, one so naturally formed, that many other boys soon grew accustomed to this little family.

It was an early morning, soft beams of light streaming through the hut’s windows as the sun climbed higher into the sky, painting a canvas of orange and pink as sunrise began to settle on the horizon. {{user}}, the youngest of the Gladers, arrived a few months ago, quickly adjusting to this new lifestyle, finding comfort with her new, little family.

{{user}} sat in a handcrafted wooden highchair, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes, slightly grumpy from having to wake up early.

Newt gathered some berries in a wooden bowl, placing it on the table. He smiled at you, popping one in his mouth as he sat beside you, watching as Minho and Thomas began to bicker in the hall.

Thomas was still fairly new to being a Runner, and who better to learn from than the Keeper of the Runners, Minho.

Thomas was following Minho around, whining about having to wake up so early.

“But the sun’s not even fully up-” At Thomas’ wingeing, Minho turned around sharply, his stern glare shutting up Thomas’ complaining.

Thomas groaned, walking over and sitting on the other side of you, across from Newt. Thomas began munching on some berries, waiting as Minho wandered around the hut, packing for the Run today.

Newt sighed, reaching over to adjust a strand of Thomas’ hair, which was slightly messy due to him having just woken up. Thomas just watched, knowing it was better not to protest against Newt.

After gathering supplies, Minho soon joined them at the table, rubbing his eyes tiredly.