When my shakiness passed, I sent Logan away to take care of his own affairs. Everyone else had already gone on about their business. I succeeded in achieving solitude, and started wandering around the grounds of the school. Now I had the problem of my remedy, added to the problem of Sabertooth.
I watched the younger students run about in a mad dash game of dodge ball. It sailed over the head of one, and came towards me, but stopped short, and I saw one child staring at it, apparently telepathically throwing it. I smiled in fond remembrance of watching the other children play such games when I was a child.
I continued on my walk, passing outdoor classes, and training exercises. A loud commotion halted all activity, and there was a rush headed for a group of trainees. Dropping my illusions, I floated down between the four fighters, two boys against a boy and girl.
"What's this?" I asked quietly, hoping to calm them into sensibility. It didn't work. "He called us cheap phonies!" One boy yelled out.
The others immediately began screaming their defense or agreement, until I gave a large scale display just to get them to shut up. I calmed myself, and spoke."What is your name?" The boy left the girl talking to a spectator and replied, "Damon."
"You say that they call you fakes, is that correct?" The opposition tried to deny it, but I held up my hand for silence.
"Is that correct?" He nodded sullenly. "Yeah, and they said we didn't know how to fight!" Before they could start up another screaming match, I turned to the two they were accusing. "And your name and explanation is?"
The taller of the two stepped forward. "I'm Jason. Every word I said is true. They may be able to fight, but they could never stand up to us in a good scrap!" As they grinned smugly, Damon launched himself past my shoulder at him.
I caught him in midair, and said, "Learn to control your anger. It can be an effective weapon." I released him, and turned to Jason, who was still grinning like an idiot. "You, as the eldest of this group should know better. Taunts have very little value on the battlefield."
"What are you, my mother?" He shouted at me. I went white to the lips, and then controlled myself. "I wish I were. You, all of you," I specified, turning to each group and the watching crowd, "are sons and daughters to make any mother proud."
I turned my attention back to Jason. "I would be honored to have a son like you. A mutant child." My anger gone, I turned and continued on my walk, but my speech about motherhood had decided my dilemma.