Mila quickly rushed through the halls as she hurried her way to the auditorium. She was late, she knew she was late and she hated that fact. The trained girls foot falls made hardly a sound against the polished oak. She found the auditorium and her stomach sank as she heard a voice speaking out from behind the doors. Mila took the door by the handle and lightly pulled it open before slipping in and easing the door shut behind her. She tip toed along the back of the huge room, hoping the great magnitude of other mutants hid her late arrival. She found an open seat next to some random individuals that paid the girl no mind. She sighed with relief, believing she was an invisible enigma. She was certain she was a ninja. Yes, ninja indeed.

Mila folded her hands leisurely over her lap as she sat quietly in the auditorium. She was a bit set back by the mild eagerness of killing. How it seemed to be such a simple notion to wipe another person out of existence. She was all for defending ones self but there certainly were more option then killing. Though she couldn't very well blame them. She heard of what had happened not long before with their previous Head Master known as Xavier. He seemed a nice man from what she heard. She sighed lightly under her breath. If they wanted to kill that was their business. She didn't need to join in on the blood shed.

As the assembly came to an end Mila pushed herself to her feet. She looked around idly as the masses shuffled about to leave the room. She was in no rush to push herself through a crowd. She stretched her arms up into the air, yawning lightly as she wiggled and stretched. She over slept and her body was feeling a bit stiff. As time passed and the delightful view the floor was a relieving symbol of room to walk. She swayed through the remaining stragglers, making her way into the hall way and using her sense of smell to lead her way towards the promise of food. She might be a killer but the promise of food gave her good brownie points. And now she wanted brownies.

As she turned down ta hall she noticed the room with the chair propping the door open. She pushed her way through, stepping up and over the chair casually as if the thought of moving it out of the way and replacing it was far from her mind. She looked around the kitchen, noticing how the small animals relaxed along the floor. And two people sat on stools while the girl that introduced herself as Art was cooking food.

"Hello." she spoke simply. Her accent flawlessly American. She had no intention to let anyone know she was from Russia. Living a life on the run left little room for people to know her true origins. "I heard there was food?" She asked, looking for permission to make herself a plate. For such a petite girl she had a rather big appetite.