Just because you have horns doesn't mean you are permitted to hit anyone with them," 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 alarmed.
"He came at me first, abusing my horns and then wanting to beat me up," Drahon complained.
"Doesn't matter," Miss Fiddleson blurted. "You could have simply reported."
Drahon was slightly angered.
"The fuck you saying?! Anytime I report to you on any case of bullying, you ignore and sometimes when you interrogate the person in question, you believe their lies and shout at me to get out of your office."
