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... m," Miss Fiddleson’s voice echoed loudly in the indifferent Drahon’s ear, a teenage-looking boy.

They were in Miss Fiddleson’s office, and a fat boy sat on a long chair behind the wall, holding his stomach with his hands.

They had engaged in a fight some minutes ago, Drahon using his horns to hit the fat boy by his stomach.

"Greg," Miss Fiddleson said. "You can go."

The boy stood up and slightly bowed in appreciation as he walked to the door.

Drahon was al ...

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