“Interesting method, Ms. Drosselmeyer,” Mr. Hartley said from behind her. Even with his limp from the old injury in his leg, the ex-Dragonslayer could walk as quiet as a moth. He was carrying a thermos that he’d just refilled with fresh hot coffee and he had a folder of graded papers tucked under his arm.
Seeing Fisher sitting alone wasn’t particularly unusual. Seeing Fisher eating dry cereal with chopsticks? Something was going on. Something “Fishy”, as the staff had coined for whenever it involved the Enchanter girl from Kitsune. Which it often did.
“May I ask why you’re not using a spoon?” Or milk for that mater, but Blake didn’t ask that. Each student in their care had their own unique dietary requirements and Blake tired of hearing about them.