John Wolfstone-The Book

The next day

The next morning, as Mr. Wolfstone’s class waited for him to show up, they talked about what they had seen the day before.

“It’s inconceivable,” said a sixteen year old male dragon. “There is no way that a non-human can be considered a human.”

“True,” said a fifteen year old griffin, a creature with the head and wings of a bird and the body of a feline. “Of course, there are those who can pass for one, if at a distance, like zombies, witches and wizards, vampires, werewolves in their human form, shape-shifters, and certain others.”

“I... know... that,” said a fourteen year old boy, with a gravely voice, as he had recently been turned into a member of the undead, a zombie to be specific. “I… have… trouble… in… keeping… my… self… from… going… after… my… witch… of… a… sister… after… her… spell… back… fired… on… her… and… changed… me.”

“Why? She put a control spell on you?” asked a wizard.

“You… wish… wizard. I… can… still… kick… your… ass,” said the zombie, as he got up out of his seat, slightly slower than a normal human would.

“Knock it off you two,” said a three headed hydra. “You saw what happened yesterday. Even if that new human teacher could get away with hitting him, I doubt that Mr. Wolfstone would be happy to catch you two fighting the moment he comes in.”

Suddenly, the door opens, and Mr. Wolfstone comes in, half-heartedly tossing Tawna and Justian at their seats, with Julia following close behind him.

“Good morning class,” he said, with a chipper sound in his voice, more so than normal.

“Um, Mr. Wolfstone, are you, alright?” asked a student.

“Of course I am,” said Mr. Wolfstone. “I had the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

At this, the class just looked at him.

“Hey,” he said. “Even fearsome teachers like me deserve to have themselves a good night, once in a while anyways.”

Then another student asked, “Um, Mr. Wolfstone, where is Samual at?”

“Oh, he’s helping a friend of mine test an invulnerability potion out," Mr. Wolfstone said, with a wicked chuckle. "The kid had the nerve to call him a two-bit illusionist that couldn’t even pull a rabbit out of his hat. Needless to say, my friend didn’t take too kindly to that. Also, a couple of giant friends of mine wanted something to help enhance their, personal, pleasures. At the moment, he is probably in a moist, dark, cave, with a very thick shaft blocking his escape. Of course, those of you who have taken Sexual Education class, or been a part of it, can figure out what it is I am talking about.”

At this, there is a mixture of low “Lucky bastard,”s and “Ooh, I wouldn’t want to be him,”s being whispered around by the majority of the older students in the room.

“Now,” Mr. Wolfstone said. “If there are no more questions about why I am in such a good mood, or about where Samual is, I have an important lecture for you, one that is not in the book at all.”