"A table?" she asked, her near-permanent frown creasing into a scowl. "She broke a table?" "Two of them, actually. From what other students that were there have told me, she picked one of the cafeteria tables up and attempted to hit another student with it." The principal sighed and shook his head. "Fortunately, your daughter intervened, but the tables are quite heavy, and having one of them land on top of the other like that damaged them both." He locked eyes with the direwolf for several moments, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. "I understand that Ms. Blackmane has had a troubled history, and we've been willing to work with you to help her better adapt to her new situation at school and at home, but the school simply cannot afford to keep covering all of the damage she is causing." "So you're expelling her?" She didn't appear surprised. "That's what I asked you to come in to discuss, yes." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "I'm open to other solutions and I’d prefer if one can be found, but with the way things are going I'm afraid we're running out of options. We've both talked to her before about the need to improve her behavior at school, but it is pretty apparent that our words have not had much of an effect." Makwa crossed her arms as she digested his words. The chair creaked under her as she shifted her weight - like everything else in the school it was not designed or built to hold up to the weight and strength of a direwolf. "Young direwolves are naturally rambunctious," she began. More like a bunch of violent hooligans, he thought. Luna is, or at least was, pretty laid back. Almost normal. With another direwolf around, though… "Seff might be a more belligerent example, but all direwolves have a need to work their differences out physically." She punched the palm of one hand with her other fist, demonstratively. "They listen to strength first, words second." "So, what? We should beat her?" he asked, aghast. "The Principal might've kept a paddle in his office when I was a kid, but that sort of thing doesn't fly these days. I'd be fired." "No, no!" she almost laughed. Almost. "Besides, you would break the paddle before you actually hurt her. It doesn’t even hurt when they hit each other. Not much, anyway." She shrugged, "But that's the point. Fighting, wrestling, it's as natural to them as talking is for other children. You may tell them not to talk in class, but they’ll do it anyway." "Then there is no way to stop her from trying to hit other students? From breaking tables and lockers?" "No, but if they have nothing to talk about while in class, they may be a bit quieter." He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue, while turning her words over in his head. "You're suggesting that we give them a place to fight?" She tipped her head in a slight nod. "That's insane!" He sat back, throwing up his arms. "The school can't condone students fighting on campus, we'd be liable." "You don't need to condone it. Just... turn a blind eye to it. Give them a little patch of grass where there is nothing they can break, and you'll be more worried about them sleeping through class than starting a brawl.” She flashed a smile that was all fang. “You won't be telling them where to fight, or that they're allowed to fight at school - I'll take care of that." He felt queasy, and very uncomfortable with the fact he was actually considering her suggestion. "And the other students? Will Ms. Blackmane be able to stop herself from throwing a punch the next time one of them teases her?" "After she punches them, do they keep teasing her?" Makwa asked rhetorically. "It's a problem that would solve itself in time, but having a place to fight might do the job. If they refuse to meet her there for a fight, it's the same as losing the fight. Their words will mean nothing when they refuse to back it up with force." He pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. "So what would we call this patch of grass?"
And so the Direwolf cultural center came to be. And it was good... Until Luna started watching wrestling.
Pray that you are never dragged by a direwolf into the cultural center for some cultural enrichment.