The good news--Marcus wasn't getting fired from the looks of things.

The bad news--he was, however, staring into the eyes of a humanoid wolf beast that looked like it was seconds away from swallowing Marcus whole.

And he just had to say the first thing that came to his head.

"My Mr. Wolf. What big teeth you have."

"That's very inappropriate, Mr. Norris."

Marcus turned his head to his right to eye the woman that sat on Principal Fitzpatrick's chair like she were the President of the United States, if Presidents dressed like they worked in bars in Alabama.

"I'm sorry, strange woman that knows my name, but how exactly is one supposed to act when they walk into a school Principal's office and comes face to face with the American werewolf in America?" Marcus asked calmly, even turning back to eye the wolf with dark brown fur, standing on its hind legs like a man, making the creature look over six feet.

He stared straight into the creature's light brown eyes, watching as the thing breathed deeply. Then it huffed, blinked, made its tail twitch and Marcus was just about done with existence.

"I just...I never thought I'd say this but I just can't," he said as he shook his head, turning his back to the creature and not caring if it attacked him when he was not looking.

Hell, for all he knew, mortality was a lie too, just like everything about planet Earth apparently.

"I understand that this may be a lot to process," the beautiful woman that Principal Fitzpatrick stood beside said, the other wolf-men by her sides stopping their sniffs and growls as soon as she spoke, "but we don't have that much time. You see Mr. Norris, you are not meant to even be knowing of my existence right now but circumstances call for this...Do you mind sitting down?"

Marcus ignored her and continued to pace the front of the large, dark office, ignoring her and the guest chairs in front of the desk so that he could think through what he knew and put pieces together.

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the room, eyes staring out the large, wall-sized window at the right of the office, before snapping his fingers and turning around to face the stern looking woman with dark, curly hair.

"Are you the ones that had Kuzma before he escaped?"

The dark-skinned woman in a red flannel shirt rose an eyebrow slowly.

"No. We did not know of his existence until the town's front guards caught the sirin's scent. As this is our community's territory, it's our duty to apprehend the monster an--"

"I'm going to stop you there," Marcus said, cutting her off without a care.

He did, however, jump when one of the six wolf-men around her, was suddenly in front of him, groveling and glaring with glowing blue eyes.

Marcus, still trying to process the existence of Kuzma, did not have the patience to deal with werewolves on top of that, so instead of jumping or cowering in fear, he said;

"Down boy."

And the werewolf with blonde fur didn't seem to have expected that, leaning its head back slightly to eye Marcus before huffing.

"Cute," Marcus said dryly, earning another growl.

Well, it was.

"Stand back, Glynn. He's human. We do not harm the favored," the woman ordered and blonde werewolf, Glynn, returned to her side immediately.

"Now," Marcus said as he went back to pacing. "Since you're not the ones that held Kuzma prisoner for what I'm guessing was a long ass time, just from his behavioral patterns alone, one could've guessed maybe from when he was a child. Maybe before his preteen years. Who knows? Maybe that's how his people act but I doubt that. Anyway, since you're not them, I cannot give you a flat out fuck off just yet."

Marcus picked up a green, gem-like paperweight from the coffee table on his left, throwing it in the air then catching it as he continued to talk.

"Sirin. So that's what he is. How fascinating," he mumbled, going off track before catching himself.

"But since you're not those people, and from what I gathered, Kuzma hasn't been out and about since he was a child, may I know what exactly he has done to be labeled a monster that needs to be apprehended?"

"Those are your questions?"

All eyes turned to Principal Fitzpatrick at the sound of her stern voice going high in disbelief.

Marcus, paperweight still in hand, stopped pacing to look around before looking back at her with his head tilted to the right.

"Did I forget to ask something?"

"Nothing about what we are or how I'm involved with this or shows of disbelief? You're taking this all in stride, it just makes me wonder if you're...well." The Principal trailed off when she noticed the other woman's look of disapproval.

"I don't like stressing over the little things," Marcus said simply before facing the woman that was obviously in charge, using his hand to tell her to speak.

"So? What makes Kuzma a monster?"

The woman was silent for a moment, her pink painted lips pressed together to form a fine line.

"Humans won't be able to understand our world's way of things so it'd be best not to involve you anymore. I only called you here to apologize for not acting sooner and for whatever you may have endured under the monster's tyranny. And to also inform you about a mind wiping so that you can return to your normal life without ever looking back to this event. We just need your consent."

Marcus listened, nodding slowly before placing the paperweight back on the coffee table.

He straightened up to look at the wolf by the door before turning back around to face the woman.

Moving forward, he finally sat down on one of the guest chairs and folded his legs, sitting back and eyeing her.

"Marcus Norris. And you are?"

She rose her eyebrow once more, full lips twitching slightly.

"Samantha Leroy. Although everyone that knows of me calls me Alpha Sam."

Marcus nodded again, then leaned forward.

"So Sammy." She scowled at the name. "Why is Kuzma being treated like some high-level criminal? What are his crimes? I'm not even going to ask what the hell a mind wipe is--already have an idea and I'm going to say no--so just answer that."

Sammy's round brown eyes narrowed dangerously, head turning to look at Principal Fitzpatrick who was beginning to look antsy, an odd expression on the usually stony woman.

"He's a sirin, Mr. Norris," Fitzpatrick began as Sammy sat straighter. Everyone suddenly got tense and the temperature in the room felt like it had gone down for the moment. "He's a sirin. A fallen. And the fallen are enemies of the gods that can't be allowed to live."

"Why?" Marcus asked immediately, not going to dare touch the thing about gods.

"Because they thought themselves above the gods. They did not know their place and sought more power. The gods ordered it, and we simply followed," Sammy said, her body tense.

Marcus--finding those words amusingly similar to many points from the history of his own species-came to a conclusion.

"So you wiped them all out. Genocide, because of the few. So murder, basically," Marcus said with a nod, understanding Kuzma's world more and more.

And frankly, he thought it was shit, though not all that strange or foreign when one looked at humanity's history, which was rather sad.

Sammy was just about to say something else but Marcus cut her off again.

"So since Kuzma has obviously done nothing wrong but exist, which isn't wrong to begin with, he's to be killed. So murdered, as I stated. How nice."

"It is not murder!" Sammy yelled, standing up and slamming her hands on the table. "It's justice."

"Don't do that. Your Batman impersonation is horrible," Marcus said lightly, ignoring the heightened emotions swirling in the room for he was dealing with some emotions of his own.

"Justice. A word only those in power can define," he mumbled to himself, fingers of his right hand rubbing his jaw as he thought about Kuzma, his heart going out to the guy.

"Well," he suddenly said as he shot up in his seat. "This was fun. I have so many questions, ma'am, but right now, I've got a place to be. You wouldn't mind giving me the rest of the day off, would you, ma'am?"

Principal Fitzpatrick blinked owlishly at him from behind her rimmed glasses, as confused as the rest of the room.

"Thanks. Let me know if I'm fired or not," he said without waiting for her answer and began to head for the exit, right hand in his pocket while his left scratched the back of his neck. He was thinking about what he was about to do next and if it was a bad or good idea.

Either way, he was too emotional to really care about anything else at that moment.

"Where are you going? You can't just leave!" Sammy yelled from behind him and the wolf he had walked into when he entered the office moved to block his way and Marcus slowly looked up at the creature.

"This has nothing to do with humans. It is best that you leave here, not remembering any of this. It is too dangerous an-"

"I don't like assholes, Sammy," Marcus cut her off, sighing. "They rub me off the wrong way. Spouting self-righteous shit from left to right as if they're just...right when really, they're just a bunch of mindless assholes too stuck in their little world to see anything else lest their little world, crumbles."

Pulling out his ringing phone from his right pocket, Marcus said, "I don't like assholes and I'm smart enough to not listen to them."

"Now if you'd excuse me," he said, looking up to the ever still werewolf by the door, "I've got to get home and bake a cake. I'm in the mood."