A/N: It took a year, but I'm back for sure. Thanks to those for sticking around as long as you had.

Crates of supplies and various items were loaded, one after the other, onto the various bullheads within a particularly guarded heliport. Uniformed bodies with the Vale's sigil sewn onto their shoulders moved about the busy dark morning, orders and exchanges between each and every one of them to ensure all was accounted for. With the festival at its peak, and the exception of the already scarce Dust supply, Beacon Academy required additional resources to maintain both the stadium and its visiting sister schools. It demanded overtime for the underappreciated or unacknowledged few that worked behind the scenes of the kingdom, and time that would be generously paid well by the headmaster himself. So like ants in synchronicity, the men and women filed back and forth to meet their final quota for the shift in an earnest effort to go home and be with their families. They'd leave it to the next shift to take care of any additional or rush hour requests.

"How are ships 117 to 131?" asked one of the managers over the now spinning turbines.

"They're secured and ready for lift ma'am! Beacon is ready to receive upon delivery!"

"Good to hear! Whichever ship needs refueling, let their staff know and they'll—"

A sound of a truck's horn blared off in the distance, and the manager turns to one of the chain linked gates. Low and behold there sits another freighter with Oum knows what inside, and they were expected to just receive another shipment? She grits her teeth and walks toward the gate, stringing together several curses in every language she knew as one of the security guards at the checkpoint looks over the manifest.

"What's going on here Derrick? Last I checked we had everything prepared and ready to go!"

"Don't rightly know Carol, but it looks like a last minute change."

"How much of a change are we talking?"

The guard hands over the manifest, and she looks over the details carefully; noting of the sort of cargo being transferred to them. She recognized the Watterson's Shipping and Co., and knew them to be reliable to one of the few other delivery services that worked into the night as well. She looked over the additional Beacon cargo, a list filled with maintenance kits, spare parts, yadda yadda yadda… and Dust? Her eyes narrowed over that detail, coded specifically under the name "snow glass", and that could only mean this shipment was a Schnee sensitive delivery. It wasn't anything new to the manager who had seen her fair share of sensitive cargo come and go between kingdoms. Hell, if it weren't for the White Fang making business for them harder, there wouldn't be a need for undisclosed means of transporting Dust.

In any case, work was still work, and the only thing that bothered her about this shipment was the sudden arrival itself. The papers checked out with the traditional Schnee call sign, but her superiors would have notified her to some degree about it than to leave it in the dark. They handled last minute orders before, but that was because someone called it in and not have the shipment simply appear unannounced.

"Stay here and wait for my signal," she warns the guard. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Want me to hail some VPD officers to come by just in case?"

"Don't call them in yet. If it turns out to be nothing, then we're wasting both our times. Just keep a line ready while I sort this out."

Slowly approaching the truck, she knocks on the driver side door with the manifest in hand as the window rolls down. A tired looking man in similar uniform looks down at her; pale skin with brown hair at his crown, green eyes bleary from a seemingly long drive. She quickly scans around the truck looking for anything out of place as she addressed the driver.

"What are you doing here?"

"Huh?" The man looked genuinely confused by her sudden questioning. "I'm here to drop of a delivery—"

"The manifest shows your rig carrying additional supplies that our current airships aren't authorized to deliver," she explained sternly. "We wouldn't be having this discussion if your boss gave us the heads up, but they didn't and here we are. That leaves us with a problem."

"Are you sure no one from the company called? Vorris said he'd get us the go ahead, but he's the new guy covering for Luca, the usual girl."

There was a weary urgency in his voice, and it was a troubled tone she could at least sympathize with when asked to work more than her usual hours. She was familiar with the receptionist mentioned; a girl who was underpaid doing someone else's job, but was nice and competent enough. A bit mousy though, and it did match the calls a few days ago that she would be out. Carol hadn't been in the office much, and she quickly called over to some of the guys still moving deliveries. Their responses were mixed, a few shrugs and unsure nods, leaving her back at square one. Glancing over the manifest one last time, she checked to see for any discrepancies that the ironclad protocol she had drilled into her since day one. There were still a few things about this that felt off, and in a situation like this, she knew she would have to call the boss himself at an ungodly hour just to make sure the paperwork filled out. If she wanted to be super thorough, she'd need to call the VPD too in order to do a quick look over the rig for anything else that was odd.

She ran a hand over her eyes.

"In a situation like, I'm supposed to have you wait until we sort this mess out," she explained. "We can't accept any surprise and sensitive shipments, even with the proper manifest, without the call ahead from your boss. If no one can properly claim it, you'd be sent back to sort out the problem yourself."

The man's face turned crestfallen. "Come on, miss! We've been hauling shipments all over the city just today and—"

Carol raised her hand to stop him. "It's damn late, and I know you're tired like the rest of us. I'm not sending you back, but I'll need to do a quick sweep of your rig to make sure everything looks ship shape. Now go ahead and pull into loading bay 3, alright?"

The man smiled, sputtering a stream of thanks for her understanding as Carol signaled for the gate to open. A few others guided the truck to the indicated bay, and she followed after them on foot as they came to a stop. She watched as the rest of her crew went back to finishing up, and the driver that was climbing out of the truck a bit too consciously than her liking.

"Everything okay?"

He flinches, almost missing a step on the way day, as he turns to look at her and back inside the carriage.

"Yeah, everything's fine. My partner has a bit of a temper when something startles her out of her sleep."

The doors is slowly pulled open, and Carol notices a rather small woman tucked against the side of truck: dressed in similar uniform with her legs brought up against her body, arms holding them in place, and a head resting deeply against the knees. Her skin looked fair with black hair done neatly into a tight ponytail, and Carol could see the rise and fall of evened breathing from her chest.

"If you two need a space to rest in, you're welcome to use the break room we have here," Carol offered. "Now let's see this rig of yours."

He nods, and for the next few minutes he follows her during her sweep. The man answers all of her questions when asked, and shows the proper forms and identifications when needed (with some careful work around his sleeping partner). Carol finds everything around the truck to be in the clear, knowing for sure that the vehicle in question was clean. She learned that the man's name was Maron Aim (a Mistralian, he claims) from his license and uniform, and he seemed friendly enough. Maybe he's eagerness to cooperate stemmed from a greater need to rest, and she couldn't fault him for that either. All that was left now was the cargo, and she could finally be one step closer to going home and sleeping a full day in her apartment.

"Alright then, last thing now is the cargo. When we're done with this, I'll brew us something to drink," she offered as they walked toward the back of the truck.

"You're really too kind," Maron replied, a bit sheepishly.

"S'alright. The least we can do for the miscommunication is make your last trip quick, or at least send you two home after a bit of sleep. It's not safe to drive drowsy so late, right?"

He nods, and pulls out the set of keys to unlock the rolling metal door. Carol watches as he's careful to not let the thing slam up noisily; using his full body to gingerly push and pull the door when necessary at the slightest groan of metal. With the back fully opened, they look into the metal container to see the dark vague outlines of crates and boxes. There is a bit of space for someone to walk through, and she knew she had to confirm that the Schnee sensitive delivery was indeed there.

"Sorry about that," he spoke as he pulled out a flashlight from his belt. "The guys moving stuff from our last stop knocked out our lights and my partner gave them a bit of her mind for it."

"You don't say…"

Carol strains her eyes to search through the darkness before taking the offered light. "Give me a second to clear out the space before we get that coffee eh?"

"After you," he gestures.

She climbs into the truck, careful to not knock over anything, and slowly makes her way toward the back. Her mind takes careful notes of the things she passes, finding them familiar to what the manifest showed her. There are moments where boxes have to be moved, whatever her body is able to manage, as she searches for the sensitive cargo in the flashlight's pale beam.

"If there's anything odd…" his voice calls out.

"I'll be sure to ask you about," she finishes for him.

Further and further back she moves, until she finds a sizable metallic case with the Schnee logo printed across its surface. Pulling out the manifest once more, she compares the shipping number and finds them to be appropriately the same. Carol sighs, relieved that at least something was to some extent sorted out. It still bothered her that the higher ups haven't notified her, or that no one called, but every Vytal festival held in Vale kept the background workers like her completely busy. She would chalk it up to a small mistake, go home, and finally sleep in a bed that was hers.

"You're in the clear," she confirms. "We'll lock this up and wait for the airships to return after their next trip."

"Wonderful!"

She turned to find a pair of eyes staring directly at her from the darkness. Her mind, dulled by exhaustion, is slow to register the sudden appearance as the flashlight slips from her hand. It doesn't show immediately, but she realized that her breathing had become difficult; a burning sensation piercing her throat as hands weakly struggle with the thin blade. She felt it push further, robbing the woman of her life as she falls backward on the Schnee crate; her body convulsing as blood seeps onto the case. The job is quick and quiet, unlike the assailants preferred methods, but a job completed no less. A gloved hand reaches for a rag kept on the body, and slowly wipes away the blood on the blade; dismissively tossing the cloth on to the woman's face upon finishing.

"Everything alright in there?"

Neo turned to the opening of the truck, and made her way through the boxes and crates with ease. The man looked up to her, unsurprised by her sudden arrival, but finds himself disappointed that her guise was readily dropped. He knew his partner to be reliable, but her habit of being restless had drawbacks of unacceptable sloppiness. Eyes quickly scanned the area, ensuring that no one was nearby to see their ruse. She makes a quick motion across her neck, confirming that everything was certainly alright.

"Took you long enough," the man remarked as he began to remove the vestiges of his disguise; pulling off the wig, wiping away the makeup, and disrobing the uncomfortable uniform. The fabric was thick and starchy to sit in, but hiding in plain sight demanded necessary sacrifice. Still, no one would ever say that Roman Torchwick wasn't thorough. It had taken him some time to get in touch with Cinder after his breakout, and his sudden order to deliver thirty airships to the White Fang was… worrying. Of course he knew what those animals intended to use it for; dropping Grimm into the city would certainly keep every Huntsman and Huntress busy and distracted. It was a plan he could get behind that would upset every notion of established order these privileged people hold dear. It would be the comeuppance they all deserved, and he would pick up the spoils afterwards when the "Queen" is satisfied.

Euphemisms aside, Roman wasn't a man to worry. He had learned long ago trust his own intuition after so many close calls and bad scrapes with the law and lowlifes alike. If a deal had even the slightest whiff of danger to himself or his partner, Roman would bow out. If anyone was sent after him or Neo, it was made sure that his decline of the offer was made very clear; or in several pieces if necessary.

But there were certain moments where his second-guesswork screamed innate danger.

It couldn't be reasoned with or bargained against, and the rarity of it had served to teach him to caution. The rumors that began to spread inside and outside the kingdom couldn't be ignored, even by the likes of him who thought such things were beneath him.

He saw the White Fang as animals; things that could be trained or "coerced" to follow commands. What worried him, though, was how often that sentiment grew in hushed exchanges between normal civilians. Imagination be damned, the specificity of the violent and gory details about some outside town couldn't be real. Hell, even during the down time between sealing ships and Dust the terrified words reached his ears; from the lowliest of beggars and the snobbiest of the privileged. These fanatical terrorists were growing more feral like the animals they are? It was something he had to have Junior confirm for him. It took the information broker some time to contact his sources outside the walls, and yet the answers he received added more the rumor.

For some reason, they were rounding up their kind while remaining in seclusion; not only in Vale, but in the other three kingdoms as well. The only other detail tied to it revolved around some Faunus settlement that was recently overwhelmed by a horde of Grimm. Someone arrived there for recruitment, and whether or not they were successful remains speculative. Roman at least believed they weren't that animalistic to turn on their own kind, but some things were just innate. Maybe the town refused and the Fang didn't take kindly their answer, seeing the Grimm as a means of practice for the full scale attack.

It was possible, but his gut screamed otherwise.

He knew better than to ask Cinder sensitive questions that challenged her authority, but he wasn't appreciating being kept out of the loop for too long. Tossing the disguise back inside the truck, his hands were quickly set to work adjusting his meticulous attire. There was no need to delay their work further, and he was just glad that he didn't have to deliver the airships in person. If Roman was needed inside the walls (father than the Fang), he wouldn't complain. His hand slipped into his coat, pulling out a scroll that had been responsible for auto-piloting his deliveries outside the kingdom to the drop point. He had to admit that it was impressive that she was able to obtain something that would disable an entire kingdom.

"It's the same song and dance again, I'm afraid," he spoke to his partner. "And this time make it clean. We didn't need a spectacle to keep the cops busy with the bodies. A bit of seared fingertips and missing teeth would have been fine as far slowing their identification, but mutilation is a bit much."

With a few presses and a destination input later, the airships would take off on their own in a few moments; cargo and all. It would be the last delivery to be made before his next role in infiltrating the General's airships, a feat that was currently underway until Junior fished him some poor sap's ID and uniform. If Roman timed it correctly, he would be patrolling alongside the other army brats by the festival's finals. He still needed to learn the names of "comrades" and the mannerisms of his unfortunate mark, but it would be an easy role to slip into. Stowing his scroll away, he looks over to his Neapolitan themed partner as her attention seemed more focus on her own scroll.

"Did you hear me Neo?" It wasn't like her receive an order twice, but the raised finger held to quiet him was certainly unlike her. She stuck a thumb back to the inside of the truck while her eyes remained focused on her scroll. Rolling his eyes in disbelief, he climbed up into the interior to see a collections of bodies propped around the cargo in various positions. Some were posed as if they were playing cards, others were lounging casually, or as if they were sleeping heavily upon the boxes. Every single one of the night shift crew was present, albeit bloodier after their initial arrival.

She never stopped surprising him at least.

"Considering the method of how you enjoy your work, I'm surprised by how civil it all looks. It's by far your 'cleanest' piece."

Neo nods in agreement, her eyes still intent on her scroll. Roman steps down, sidling up behind her to glance over the pictures she was gleaning through; her Haven persona in the company of another man who (surprisingly) dressed well. By the looks of it, it seems that his partner had gone on another of her "dates" again; something he knew that eventually ended in a gruesome departure. All the men and women she lured became a part of her artistic motif: their corpses imitating the indolence of life itself. They served as a core message of some futility that Neo wished to prove, or simply that she was sociopath who enjoyed pushing the boundaries of what was immorally unsound.

Roman knew she cared very little for people used in he projects, but she never lingered on them. He noticed the breathless sigh, and how her shoulders rose and fell like a girl in yearning.

"Is there something I should know?" he asked.

Neo spun around, pointing to the image on her scroll with her on the unnamed man. Her gestures are exaggerated; motions that mimic concepts of confusion and frustration, as well as a sense of eagerness. All were lost on Roman, who watched her one sided exchanges before interrupting her.

"Isn't he just another of your 'projects'?"

She shook her head, hands motioning her response.

He's too important for something like that.

"Important how?"

Neo pantomimed maniacal laughter, devil horns, and whipping motions at Roman's direction. In spite of the caricature implied, his expression darkened as the answer.

"Cinder has an interest in this person."

A nod of confirmation.

"And do you know why she would be interested in him?"

Neo made a provocative gesture with her hands, over exaggerating the swiftness of the motion and the expression on her face. He frowned at the diminutive woman in disbelief who, after implying that their employer needed certain needs fulfilled, crossed her fingers and held them behind her back.

"Double cross from the inside huh. And I take it she wants you and the other two brats to play nice?"

Another nod.

"Well, if he's 'important' to her, then leave him alone," he ordered. "Whatever she asks, just do as you're told and put up with it for now. We don't need to make ourselves a problem, and I'm sure there'll be others you can use for your exhibits."

Neo's eyes grew into a deep and dangerous scowl, shaking her head vigorously as she pointed to the man and back to herself.

He's mine.

"Not if Cinder wants him," Roman dismissed. "Seriously Neo, of all the things to step on her toes for, and it's over some guy?"

His fall to the hard concrete floor was a swift one, his balance toppled as her foot hooked around his ankle and pulled. Adding insult to injury, his chest was met with an overhead kick that slammed him down and held him in place; the heel of her boot threatening to pierce his chest. Angry eyes matched furious ones as Neo stared down at him, her blade inches above his throat while the other hand showed a video on her scroll. She made sure that he watched it, guiding his wayward glances with tentative pokes.

Roman, deciding to not push his luck with another dangerous woman, acquiesced and looked at the video. He was shown a fight between two Huntsmen (he guessed), and it wasn't an unfamiliar sight. He had brushed against a few of them before, and most of them could hardly be called a "fight" if he was scraping to survive. It wasn't like the tournaments that masses enjoy with all their rules and sportsmanship; losing a fight meant watching your life spill around you as everyone else sneers above. Yet the longer Roman watched, the more he realized how underwhelming his own skirmishes were in comparison the recording.

Every hit was taken in stride, an exchange that would kill any lesser person in mere seconds, yet was dealt fairly upon the scythe wielding Huntsmen. Blood splattered across the floor, painting a gruesome display, but the man from the image fought on relentlessly. To even say that was a man at all felt wrong; this was something entirely feral. It was what Roman imagined a person could succumb to when there is nothing left to lose; no morals or convictions to hold them back. Neo zoomed in closer, and he saw how the man was capable of fighting when he should have passed out from the blood loss.

Roman saw the fresh wounds heal while the other Hunter grew sluggish in his movements. Blood taken from the enemy to compensate for your own; if there was ever a semblance he didn't want to come up against, then this was certainly it. Neo pulled back the scroll, nodding to it as if she had made her point clear.

This was a man who couldn't be easily killed, and she was a woman who took pleasure in other people's pain. If hell existed, then it must have certainly frozen over because Neopolitan was "in want." Like a spoiled child, whatever she desired became territorially hers and hers alone.

"Were I any other person," he began, "I would have hired as many mercenaries possible to try and deal with you."

He reached up and moved the blade from his throat, and found no resistance in doing so.

"But you and I know that would only be helping you, and not killing you. You terrify me too much, and I value my body more than what you're capable of doing to it."

Neo grins, stepping off the thief as she stows the blade away back into her parasol. Dusting off the unnecessary dirt, Roman leveled his gaze back with hers before making his way out of the empty hanger.

"You still can't have him," he called back. "If you keep pushing your luck, not even my careful planning can save you from the 'Queen'."

Heels clacked hurriedly behind him, stomping at a steady tempo like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn't need to look back to know the contemptuous expression on her face, but work needed to be done and they couldn't afford to be behind schedule. They stepped out into the open air, the sound of propellers and turbine whining, as the airships began to lift off one by one. Taking off in unison, they tilted their direction towards the forest and drifted away like an ominous flock bearing gifts for the oncoming days.

Neo stopped beside him, arms tightly crossed as she kicked at his shins. Roman bore the brunt of it knowing that she would sulk on it as long as her patience would allow. It was times like this that he wished she were a simpler woman: Lien, jewels, high rise living, anything that didn't involve expanding her little art project. People weren't meant to go missing often, and disposing of the parts she didn't use was a costly service from the cleaners.

"Look at it this way," he spoke, "when the foundations of Vale are busy with falling apart, anything can happen. Maybe this guy, whoever he is, gets lost among the chaos. Maybe he dies or just suddenly disappears. Cinder has the forces, but she can't be everywhere at once. Chalk it up to something she didn't anticipate."

Roman pulled out a cigar and lit it with (horribly classless) matches. He took several thoughtful puffs before gesturing back to his partner.

"You and I aren't responsible for that because we'll be on the warship following her plan to the letter. But when shit actually hits the fan? Anything goes."

Neo looks up at him curiously as he took a deep drag, and exhales the smoke slowly into the cold air.

"Just deal with it for now until it all blows over. Distance makes the fruit taste sweeter, or so they say."

Roman felt a small and slender arm wrap around his waist, and for a moment his body stiffens. The world around them melds away and the familiar lurch in his stomach halts as they arrive somewhere dark and underground. It was a cellar by the looks of it, one where numerous bottles of wine and alcohol are kept in storage. She had taken them to Junior's and thankfully not to her exhibit. Mismatched eyes looked up to him pleadingly, as if she was being promised a pony made entirely of diamonds, and he shrugs noncommittally. Apparently it was enough as she gave him a brief, half-hug squeeze before stalking up the stairs; twirling her parasol happily at whatever "creative" thought came to mind.

First there were children ruining their plans, then the rumors about the White Fang, and now his partner becoming suddenly possessive over a guy he would rather not meet in person; added to the fact that his "boss" and benefactor wanted to use?

The thief lets out a long and slow sigh. Times were simpler before, but he digressed.

An Atlesian air fleet wasn't going to overtake itself.

Breakfast that morning was tamer than their usual antics, and the teams were now focused on advising their teammates for the days "Doubles Round". Chisa looked about the room to find everyone huddled together, making plans for both the tournament and the fairgrounds. It was exciting to watch everyone look so serious, and she wondered what sort of special talents each of them had. She was more than familiar to what teams RWBY and JNPR were capable of, except for Jaune who had yet to discover his. Chisa liked to believe that his semblance was still sleeping and need some time to really wake up. A quick scan of the room shown that they weren't present, and a few looks more told her that any familiar face was missing. It was to be expected, but she couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Instead, she studied the other students around her; both Beacon's and the other kingdoms. The room exudes a particular energy that she felt during the tournament itself; each person thrumming with an excitement to prove themselves in combat. Everyone was ready for a fight, and it made Chisa herself excited and ready to go from a sense of solidarity. The only team she was worried about were—

"You'd tell me if something was going on between you two, wouldn't you?"

Ruby and her team.

"But I keep telling you, Yang, that there's nothing in the first place! I was just as surprised as you all were!"

The young reaper looked between her teammates exasperatedly, trying to find someone other than her sister who would believe her. Weiss, sitting across the table, would look conflicted in the halfway stance of her opinion, knowing her partner would be more sensible than to be led around. But Ruby was still younger than the rest of them, and there is a possibility of the young girl misinterpreting it all in spite of her denial. Just because nothing was going on now didn't remove the possibility of something happening later. It would be more than scandalous, but a crippling wedge that would no doubt drive their team apart beginning with the sisters. For now, Weiss resolved to keep a closer eye on her partner and leader if to avoid any more detrimental skirmishes between them all.

Blake released a sigh beside Ruby, unsure as to why Sibyll would leave with that sort of a send off after clearing his own name of suspicion. Could he even remember the sentiment behind the gesture? The lingering memories of the woman she couldn't recognize had to be important somehow to him. From what she gathered, Blake believed the woman was a familial to some extent; her presence a clearly cemented anchor in all of his memories. Yet the raven haired girl was concerned with the message left to Ruby.

May my thoughts be your protection and guide.

Even now, Blake noticed that Ruby's hand would brush away the bangs from her eyes, but they would linger where Sibyll's forehead touched hers. Perhaps it was the young hunter's way of placing his trust in the girl, or to leave some aspect of himself as a figurative ward against potential danger. There was guidance in the sense that he could trust Ruby to make a sound decision; someone other than Blake to trust their convictions. Yang watched her sister as she sat next to Weiss, and saw how Ruby would pulled back her hand to busy them with other things, primarily with trying to finish the rest of her breakfast.

"Well I don't like that he's getting closer to you than he should," Yang remarked bitterly.

"You don't like a lot of things these days," the younger sister bit back.

She winced as the words slipped past her lips, but it was the honesty that Ruby was trying to hold back for a while. Her eyes were met with crimson irises that were never directed at her, but she didn't know what else to do. As a sister and a leader, she would always put the interests and safety of her team first. But as a friend to both parties, her efforts to mediate was severely divided, and proved fruitless under the stress of wanting to do well in the Vytal Tournament. She was caught in a struggle between her team and Sibyll, trying to redeem one party to the other. Even her breakfast looked heavier than usual, as if to make fun of the litany of other concerns she had still to deal with. There were still the nightmares, the uncertainty about Sibyll, and now this spat with her sister? Deciding that she couldn't eat on an (emotionally) upset stomach, she pushed her plate away and dropped her head into her hands.

"That's enough you two," Weiss intervened. "Instead of arguing further, we should be focusing on preparing for today's challenge. Any bit of advice and observation you have from the other battles would surely help Yang and I immensely."

It was an attempt to try and move away from the tension at the table, and even her gaze took careful note of Chisa's growing discomfort. Blue ears flickered nervously while eyes switched back between the sisters. The heiress would shift a good portion of that to something productive, or at least look the part. Anything would work as long as it got them back on track to securing a position for the finals, and possible winning the tournament itself.

"Ruby's right though."

A hand reached up to massage at the frustration behind the words Blake spoke. The young reaper peeked up as Yang looked to Blake with the same scowl she had given her sister.

"Before you think of accusing me for it, I'm referring to nothing going on between them. His 'gratitude' was something someone did for him when he was younger."

"You know that from his memories I presume?" Weiss clarified. Blake nodded in confirmation.

"They still appear every now and then," she answered while pointing nonchalantly at her temple. "But you don't have to blow it out of proportion Yang. Ruby will be fine, and you can calm down."

"Tch." The brawler crossed her arms and stared off angrily into another direction. It was easy for them to believe things were okay for now, but she couldn't leave it alone. Everything she had done was to protect her team and her family, even if it meant being the "bad guy" while doing so. She couldn't trust the faculty to make sound decision after they had allowed him to stay, even after Ozpin and her uncle were attacked. She knew at least that Goodwitch shared in her disagreements, but wasn't able to do anything when Blake was handed over to Sibyll. Oh, the professor tried to convince their headmaster, but heeded his decision anyways. The only other person trying was the General of a different academy, but it still wasn't enough.

She couldn't trust Ruby to believe her own convictions, even when she once confessed to no longer trusting him. Yang saw the way her sister looked at the young hunter. What sort of sibling would she be to not notice that sense of longing? She knew Ruby's efforts to prove against all odds that Sibyll was someone capable of being trusted in spite of their doubt. She was kindhearted in that sense to believe in the good of people, but it left her too vulnerable; too open to being hurt. It was Yang's job to see to it that no one would take advantage of that. It would be worth the detentions or the looks from her team if it meant everyone was safe.

Blake sighed, pushing aside her own plate as she stood from the table.

"Seeing as you're being stubborn about this, I might as well broach the topic now instead of later."

Coming around the table, she hooked an arm underneath her partner and pulled the blonde along with her out of the dining hall. There was some resistance and words of protests, which earned a few glances from a few nearby students, but the pair disappeared out of sight. Weiss, Ruby, and Chisa could only watch them before the heiress gave her own partner a curious look.

"Yeah…" Ruby responded sheepishly. "We promised to talk to Yang about how she's being lately."

"Promised who?"

Chisa raised her hand slowly, bowing her head slightly as to not look at Weiss directly. The young reaper ran a hand through the girl's hair, comforting her while gently guiding her hand down.

"She's worried about all of us," the young reaper confessed. "The night we came back from that outing, she asked Blake and me to unlock her aura so she can help Sibyll in our place."

"Because of the arguments," Weiss surmised.

"And she thought it was best, you know?"

They sat quietly, allowing the heiress to consider her actions in the past few days that would have inadvertently added to the young girl's concerns. Like Yang, she wasn't readily quick to trust Sibyll, but it was out of a sense of suspicion from what was seen firsthand. The night Addersfield had been attack was something neither Beacon nor her private tutors could prepare her for. All the lectures and spars, the forms of combat which now felt natural to her, did not protect her from the terror that swarmed the wall's base. Writhing dark bodies pushed and weaved into one another while beady crimson eyes looked up at her. They were close enough where a missed step would be the end of it. Even when the fires conducted from her rapier warded them away, Weiss knew her resolve had been shaken that night.

The foundation of her confidence and her assuredness as a Huntress in training was challenged and overturned by a single person.

The very same person saved her reckless partner, brought about the attention of Beacon's staff, saved and condemned a town by his presence, and forced her to stay at the table with a man whose hands spilled the blood of family and friends. Never had she wished to have Myrtenaster pierce the heart of the monster who spearheads a war against her family. Throughout that dinner she watched Adam Taurus from across the table, and the faces of the deceased lingered in her thoughts. Avenging them could have been easy. His shackled hands made the thought enticing, yet it made her question as to what would Winter have done if she had been there. Would she too contemplate fulfilling something as selfish and petty as vengeance, albeit it justified? Or would her sister hold the man up to the letter of the law in spite of their shared sentiments of hatred and pain?

In the middle of it all, Sibyll continued to be unaffected by who his ties were and how dangerously he treaded upon others because of it.

He dined with a murderer as if it were the natural thing to do while brushing off the concerns and suspicions of her team, peers, and mentors. Weiss refused to believe that the man was ignorant of such things, which only further supported her distrust in him. He had chosen to align himself with the Beast, and when Ruby broke the news of such it came as no surprise to the heiress. His decision to stay was only rooted in his "obligation" to try and save Blake's life at Ruby's request or provide for the girl that was now under his care; a decision made on a whim she could only assume. Even during the outing in which she had invited him to join them was more so placate the hunter while keeping an eye on him. Any information she could gather would be enough to give them the edge if or when he turns against them.

But unlike Yang, Weiss would oppose him subtly. Concerns like Chisa's or the disagreement of her team would not only set her apart, but draw the attention of Sibyll himself. It would put her at odds with everyone else; even if she truly believed the brawler was in the right. The only way she could keep the man close, and the Bloody Beast closer, is to play "nice" for the moment; wear the appropriate expression and provide a similar response.

Even if the honesty in Chisa's eye, the despondent expression in wanting to help both sides, hurt Weiss the most, she wouldn't be able to forget the pain and loss she experienced so easily.

"I wish to apologize Chisa," she spoke. "We didn't mean for you to feel that way, and that shouldn't be the case. You shouldn't think that you have to work at this problem by yourself, even with the best of intentions."

The young girl looked up to her and gave a small smile, encouraging the pang of guilt in Weiss' thoughts.

"I just didn't want to everyone to be mad anymore."

"For a time we were, but to let that rule over our judgment is careless. Even if we don't agree with Sibyll on certain—things—it can't be the only thing to focus on right now. I promise to look over our behavior."

Chisa nods, believing in the heiress' words as her attention returned to picking at her meal and looking about the room. Ruby looked to Weiss and shared a similar look of trust, and a slight tinge of remorse which caught the heiress' attention. The younger partner's expressions were always an easy read, let alone how terrible her composure was in games of cards and deceit.

"Is something on your mind too Ruby?"

She exhales an awkward chuckle, folding her hands together nervously.

"I guess I owe you an apology too?"

"For?"

"A lot of things. Like when 'it' all happened."

Weiss thought for what the younger partner implied. Perhaps Ruby was referring to when their lives became too involved with Sibyll's, when she failed to convince him to surrender peacefully, or when she continues to try and absolve him of things she was still too young to know.

"And I guess it doesn't help that people might think weird things when I tried to stop our family from fighting each other…"

And then there was that.

Weiss pushed aside her empty plate and focused her gaze on her partner, serious but not to the extent of reprimand she was used to if Ruby ever slacked.

"Misunderstandings aside, there are things that even I struggle to accept. Not that it is entirely your fault, but there are limitations to what everyone is capable of tolerating."

She gestures to Chisa who shrinks back slightly.

"Even someone younger than us, who understands only a little bit about our current predicament, felt that strain and acted accordingly. I'm not saying that I'm establishing sides between the team and our acquaintance, but remember that everyone may not always agree with you. Or that if they do, know that they are placing a lot of trust in you; a trust that can be hard to earn back if broken."

Weiss reached a hand across the table, and placed it over Ruby's; she squeezed firmly to cement her message in the contact. The heiress didn't believe that they would ever function as a pair after their first few weeks, but Ruby had made the effort to earn her respect. Weiss only deemed it fair to place an investment of trust in her leader which paid itself twofold. Now she could only hope that Ruby would do the same now, and invest some of her stalwart trust back to their team than to only one person. The young girl nodded and accepted the brevity of such words, even if it hurt to receive them.

"But consider things between us okay, if you're still worried about it."

She was halfhearted in her forgiveness; only going so far as to forgive her partner, but never the man she associated with. Ruby beamed at the older girl, squeezing the hand back with more enthusiasm than earlier.

"That's why you're a cool friend Weiss."

She nodded in confirmation, and deemed the appraisal of "cool" as satis…factory…

"Ruby."

"Yes?"

"Please tell me you're not doing that on purpose."

"Doing what on purpose?"

Weiss studied her partner further, careful to pick out any expression that held the slightest twinge of deception. It was one thing to allow Yang and her occasional stream of puns, but the heiress would not permit both sisters to partake in that poorest form of word play. Even when Ruby's confused expression cleared her of such charges, she would remain careful not to allow those practices with her own partner.

"Do you think that your sister will be okay?" Ruby continued.

"Winter?" Weiss puzzled at the thought and the sudden mention of her sister. "Okay with what exactly?"

"Well, she and my uncle did get into a fight on school grounds." the reaper clarified tentatively. "And I didn't exactly help out our situation much either…"

Ruby had a point, and it was one that Weiss had forgotten to consider since Winter's arrival. She was used to her sister leaving promptly when work demanded of it, and assumed that her extended presence at Beacon must have something to do with the tournament's security. Aside from that, they didn't have a moment to talk let alone share a brief exchange of pleasantries. It still puzzled Weiss as to why such a fight occurred at all, but they haven't spoken since.

"I'm sure that with the misunderstanding cleared up, Winter will have no reason to be suspicious of anything here at Beacon."

"But she looks kinda scary, right?" Chisa asked, her eyes focused on the thought while looking off into the dining hall.

Ruby and Weiss turned to girl, surprised that she would describe them that way.

"My sister can be intimidating upon introductions, but I'm sure she isn't as terrifying as you believe."

Sure there were times where Winter's seriousness can be mistaken for aloofness or disregard, but Weiss liked to believe that not many knew her like she and mother did. Who else could she hide between in those movies that were too terrifying at such a young age?

"And Ruby's uncle isn't really mean, even though he doesn't look like a nice person?"

Chisa looked back between the girls, hoping that their words were truthful and reassuring. Ruby, still caught in their surprise, waved away the notion of Qrow being as mean as he appeared. He was practically their second dad even when his work took him all over the world, or kept him busy at Signal. If there was ever an occasion that demanded his presence—holiday, birthday, or otherwise—she and Yang could count of their uncle to be there.

"He can be grumpy about some stuff, but I promise he's nice," Ruby answered. "Not many people stick around to get know him much."

"But our real concerns are why you would think such things?" Weiss asked. "Did you see their fight as well?"

Chisa shook her head, but instead pointed to the windows of the dining hall. Both girls looked and found the two in question passing by toward the double doors, their tension equal to their looks of indifference to one another. They followed them as the pushed by the doors, and gathered the attention of a few teams; a trail of hushed voices left in their path. Neither of them spoke a word, but Ruby and Weiss knew by their posture that the strife between them remained kindled. Winter approached in a suitable and proper form; her back straight, head held high, steps evened, and hands held together behind her back. Qrow's gait on the other hand was slouched, hands tucked in his pockets while his body swayed with each step. All the while Zwei ran circles around them, barking and yipping in enthusiasm while strangely not hindering their walk. When they rounded the tabled aisle to the three girls, both Hunters made a noticeable split; Qrow to Ruby and Winter to Weiss with Zwei at the Schnee's heel.

"Winter!"

Weiss stood up from the table, dusting off anything unnecessary before greeting her sister in the proper form. The older woman's eyes passed over her, and nodded in acceptance over the presentation; ignoring the dismissive sniff of the man across the table.

"You've been busy with work I assume?" the heiress asked.

"Quite busy, considering that Vale's security is rather… lackluster."

It surprised Winter just how lax the kingdom of Vale was in terms of its own security, depending too heavily on the service of Huntsmen and Huntresses instead of a uniformed sanction. Compared to Atlas, she didn't understand how everyone in this part of the continent survived as long as they had given their technological advancement. It explains why the General had spent a fair amount of time speaking with Vale's council as both Atlas' military and kingdom representative. Should the Council decide to accept, both kingdoms would benefit greatly as far as providing Vale with security it needs land, air, and seaborne while Atlas earned a fair portion of profit in manufacturing and funding. The only person who stood in the way of such an agreement was Ozpin whose reputation, by Winter's account, was appropriately renowned. Whatever methods he had, it was enough to keep the Council from finalizing their decision. But given the moment of the tournament to prove Atlas' technological dependency, she wouldn't expect them to deny it further.

"Still," she continued, "the General has been kind enough to extend my stay and apply my skill in ensuring the tournament goes uninterrupted."

"Nice to know Jimmy's 'generous' like that," Qrowsnarked in response. While Winter decided not to give a response to the provocation, Weiss looked over slightly to see her partner elbow her uncle's side. Ruby smiled back reassuringly, hoping to prove to her that she could at least keep her uncle in line if the man listened to anyone.

"I am pleased to hear of your extended stay," Weiss pushed forth. "Perhaps I can show you around Vale. There are some wonderful places that may pique your interests, and I know a particular shop where—"

"Another time."

The words were sharp, resolute, and familiar though they did not bear the sting Weiss felt her partner felt the need to receive on her behalf. Instead the heiress nodded in agreement, allowing her sister to put forth a separate activity entirely.

"I would instead prefer to speak with you in private," Winter stated, "and learn about your time here at Beacon. How have you acclimated? Are you eating well? Questions of that nature are what I'm curious about."

"Of course, whenever you are ready."

Woof!

Both sisters stood there in silence watching each other carefully as Zwei ran about at their feet; occasionally shifting his attention from one to the other. While the corgi continued his endeavor to gain attention and affection, Qrow watched on in amusement to see how long Winter would last before the cracks showed in her composure. Considering the slight frown he noticed at the downward curl of her lips, it wouldn't be much longer.

"Qrow, if you would please detain your mutt from harassing us further. I would not wish some misfortune befall it should you decide not to keep it in line."

"Can't really help you there," Qrow answered smugly. He crossed his arms as he glanced over to Zwei who looked back for appraisal. With a slight nod, the corgi barked excitedly and returned to running around Winter and Weiss. The older Schnee narrowed her eyes at the man in disbelief as he grinned back.

"I'm not technically his owner, but I believe the little guy can endure whatever you got. Growing up with nieces like mine proves he's tough."

"I highly doubt that." Winter shifted her gaze to Ruby, waiting expectantly for the girl to issue the desired command of the dog.

"He isn't as bad as you think," Weiss answered in her partner's stead. "Zwei's a sweetheart if you give him a chance."

She bent down slightly, and while the older sister assumed the corgi would unleash a flurry of slobbery licks he refrained. Zwei sat before her, watching patiently as an open hand was placed before him. He put his paw upon it, and "shook" the hand as properly and cordially as a dog could. When Weiss stood up, he too stood on his hind legs while keeping the forearms tucked against chest. At the twirl of her hand, Zwei spun around in the same direction, and lowered his head when she curtsied at him. It was Ruby and Qrow's turn to be surprised, having known the list of tricks they taught him. When Zwei was dismissed to join the other two, Qrow looked at the dog with a clear frown; a frown that the corgi responded with another hearty bark.

"It appears I was wrong in my assessment," Winter answered and returned a similar smirk to the Huntsman. "He appears to have more class than you, and even cleans up better. How appropriately unbecoming of you, Branwen."

"Yeah, well let's see what'll be 'unbecoming' about that grin when I—"

"Excuse me?"

Attention snapped toward the voice and found Chisa shrinking back quickly within the safety of Ruby's side. Tucked away inside the folds of the cloak, she flinched as both pair of eyes studied her curiously; surprised to have not noticed the girl in question until she spoke. Still, the youngest girl kept a steady, but wary gaze on the older Schnee as familiar light blue eyes studied her. When they looked up to the cat-like ears on her head, Chisa instinctively flattened them as close as she could; hoping that Ruby's cloak would hide them as well.

"Please don't fight," she pleaded. "We shouldn't be bothering the others."

Winter's attention lingered on for a moment before glancing about the room. Students who recognized them murmured among themselves, critically judging not only Qrow but herself as well. Their father would be displeased to hear about the slip of her composure, but for the moment other concerns filled her mind.

"The young girl has a point Qrow. There's no need to have it out with our current company."

"Tch, it's not like I have time for it anyways." He turned to his niece. "We need to catch up on a few things since I've been busy, specifically about a certain friend of yours."

"Oh come on!" Ruby spun around to face him, and the older Huntsman blanched slightly at furious expression he was met with. There were times when such a look wouldn't have moved him, but that was years ago when she was still a manageable kid at best. The furrowed brows, defiantly pursed lips, and silver eyes that narrowed as she glared back were juvenile in its execution. Still, it reminded him of how much she's grown and how close she was starting to look like Summer.

"I don't think I'm brave enough to lie to my headmaster. You know? The only person who has like, oh I don't know, my future as a Huntress in his hands!"

"Easy there kiddo, I didn't mean—"

"Just…don't. Okay? Things haven't been easy for us lately, and I just want things to try to feel normal for a while. Is that too much to ask?"

It was all that she wanted recently, even if she knew that it was almost impossible with how things were becoming. Everything before Sibyll's arrival seemed so long ago, but even so she wished that terms between them were different. She loved Chisa like her own little sister, but hated the feeling of having to push their problems that close to home. She wished that whatever has Yang so angry and irritable would just go away, and that her sister came back to her. Never had she seen her so willing to be at odds with everyone in order to protect them. Ruby knew that Yang meant well, but she's being so… difficult. She also worried about Blake and her "change" that still carried some "side effects". She appeared to be coping well, and they did keep their word to help her adjust to this strange situation. Yet Ruby worried that Blake still had some ways to go before the word "okay" could describe what her friend really felt. Those first few days were struggle for Blake who had been so used to her Faunus heritage and the traits it came with. There were a few nights were everyone had been startled awake from her waking up in the dark; unused to being without night vision. Or if it wasn't Ruby waking everyone with her nightmares, then it was Blake would talk in her sleep.

Everything between that and the misunderstanding with her and Sibyll had made her tired; tired of the confusion between her ties with the man who was their sorta-ally-maybe? He warned her not to trust him so easily, but then everything he had done was to protect them. Even when begging for Blake's life, the reluctance that once horrified her was turned into a grim realization of what lay in store for everyone. If Blake ever turned, then Sibyll wasn't able to stop them from the eventual grief of losing Blake twice. But in all of the incidents that occurred around him, he never willing lashed out unless provoked to do so. Ruby felt as if he was restraining himself from the potential danger he could actually be. Why else take care of Chisa when other people were just as capable? Why would he put up with all of the suspicion, the hostility, if he wasn't genuine? If he wasn't on their side, then why protect them at all?

More and more questions, and Ruby felt she was still far from the truth she wanted to so desperately have. Maybe it was a truth that would help mend the ties that were beginning to fray.

"You're right," Qrow placed a firm hand atop her head. Ruby squirmed beneath it, but he leant down to return her indignant glare with a softer look. "And that'll be something we can go over in our talks. He isn't the one I wanted to talk to you about though, but a friend of yours on a different team."

His words caught their attention, and any remaining tension gave way to curiosity. As Ruby and Weiss tried to sort out who the person in question could be, Winter watched him carefully and guardedly. Whether it was or not it was Ozpin's doing, she knew that it wasn't without a specific purpose. Even if Qrow was a crass drunkard, she knew the man was crafty by reputation alone. It was hard to discern the power play of being so open in front of her given his distrust to any Atlesian officer. When he glanced her direction, Winter simply averted her attention back to Weiss as Qrow stood back up.

"Let's get moving huh? The sooner we deal with it, the faster I can get out of your hair."

Ruby made to move, but felt a presence still tucked at her side. She looked back to Chisa, forgetting for a moment she was with them, and quickly scanned the room to find JNPR some ways away. It was possible that Jaune and his team could look after her, and they wouldn't mind it, but Ruby didn't want the young girl to feel like a burden. It was starting to show in small ways, and the uneasy feeling only deepened when Chisa began to slowly let go.

"If it's okay, she'll be coming with us too. I promised to look after her."

"I'm not sure about that Ruby," the older hunter spoke. "Wouldn't want her to overhear and get scared over a misunderstanding on her part. Kids her age scare easy."

"That's not true!" Chisa stepped away from the young reaper and climbed over the bench to stand before Qrow. Blue cat ears were raised on end as her posture was ramrod straight, her small shoulders squared off as she looked up into the bemused hunter. "And you shouldn't say mean things about people you don't know."

"Is that so?" He crouched down to her level, arms rested down on his knees to keep balance, and looked the girl over. "You've got guts kid, being able to call it like you see it. Not many squirts your size can do what you do. But just like you, I called it like I see 'em."

His hand lashed out, fingers splayed apart before her face in an attempt to scare her off her footing. It was a simple trick he used on his students back at Signal when they started to get too big in the head. Most of them flinched back, and others walked away with bruised foreheads. No one could be ready for something to spring up at them unless they spent time outside the walls. He expected the kid in front of him now to reel back in surprise, to stumble a little from his little jump scare.

Chisa didn't even blink, and looked back to the man in confusion. Qrow looked between her and his hand, and continued to make quick and sharp motions with his fingers. She only looked back to Ruby and Weiss, unfazed by such an action.

"Well I'll be damned," he chuckled. "You're the real deal huh?"

He reached out to ruffle her hair, even when the girl squirmed under his touch and she shoved it away.

"What's your name scrapper?"

"Chisa Cavell...sir."

"Sir?" At that, Qrow roared with laughter. He stood up slightly, hands on his knees as he brought himself under control. "Oh man, I can get used to that. I guess that's why old Ironwood made it to general."

Chisa frowned at the man, arms crossed when he pointed back at her.

"And there's the pout I'm looking for. Just like Yang when she was tike at your age."

"Are you finished insulting the girl Qrow?" Winter interjected.

"I'm not 'insulting' her. And here I thought an older sister like yourself would know what a bit of teasing would look like." He smiles back at Chisa. "Girl's got a bite that you just have to respect. But before that, how do you know my nieces?"

"We're friends," she answered matter-of-factly. Her chin rose a little higher, and Weiss could only smirk proudly at the girl's display of restrained haughtiness. Ruby placed a reassuring hand on Chisa's shoulder, and leant down to soothe the small hostilities. She relaxed more against the older girl's touch, but those small arms had yet to unfold themselves.

"Geez Oz, I was kidding about that daycare joke…" he muttered to himself. "And when did that become a thing?"

The change in her mood was small, almost indiscernible to someone who wasn't looking carefully. Her small arms folded tighter against her chest, and she stepped further back against Ruby so that the older girl's arms draped protectively over her.

"Her and everyone else came to help my town," she answered reluctantly.

Nothing more was said and nothing more was asked.

Both Qrow and Winter assumed she meant the town from the files they've about; the incident of Addersfield. Grimm incursions against outlier towns were daily risks, but it always left a sour taste for them and their peers when a town ceased to exist. Addersfield would have been considered a fortunate case. "Would have" if the Ozpin, Ironwood, and the Council hadn't taken great pains to compensate the grieving with a permanent increase security and additional resources. They hoped that the leaders of that town would keep the whole incident quiet until they could investigate it thoroughly, and provide an acceptable answer to explain why what happened ever occurred. Even then, the rumors continued to spread either from hearsay or otherwise. The casualties were too high and resentment was to be expected to some degree.

"They've been really nice to me."

"I see." Winter looked over the girl once more. Her initial thoughts about the girl came with a degree of caution given the girl's Faunus traits. Chisa's polite mannerisms and etiquette showed no deception or having ill intent, despite how dreadful the notion was. Winter wasn't a fool like her father to suspect people merely by their faunus birth, but the rising tension between her family and the White Fang kept her necessarily wary. If anything, she was surprised how polite and well-groomed a girl her age could be coming from outside Vale's borders. She did not anticipate for such a girl to have a degree of class; even if Qrow had teased her to get a small rise out of her.

"It gladdens me to hear that my sister had a hand in providing aid and comfort when needed. I expect nothing less of her."

Chisa nodded in agreement, even if it surprised her with how strict sounding Weiss' sister seemed. In all the times the heiress spoke about Winter, she felt there was a warmness to the memories; a familial fondness between siblings.

"But surely your family must be concerned about your absence if you all decided to stay in Vale." Winter looked about the room, searching for Chisa's parental like figures.

"Are they close by?"

"It's just me."

A moment of silence passed for the older Hunters to register the simple response. Winter and Qrow assumed that she was one of the lucky ones; an assumption that believed the girl's previous lightheartedness spoke of fortunate circumstances. They believed that hardly anyone from that town would hardly wish to stay at Beacon any further, or that Chisa had family who thought it best to work away those memories with something else. And for Chisa, it had been a while since she thought about her dad. In a small way she felt guilty about it. The sadness was still there, but she had been so busy with her lessons and looking after Sibyll that it slipped past her. Conflicted thoughts contradicted itself in feelings she couldn't express. Qrow and Winter looked to their respective kin, and both Ruby and Weiss nodded solemnly.

"I'm sorry to hear that kid," Qrow spoke softly. His expression became somber, and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's fine." Chisa unfolded her arms to hold on to Ruby. "Sibyll looks after me now, and it's not as lonely anymore."

"Hmm, you don't say." Winter noticed him rubbing at his shoulder. What interested her even further was the mention of this dubious character and his ties to the girl. It wasn't in any of the reports she read, and suspicion regarding him only grew.

"He'll be back soon though," Chisa continued. "That's why Ruby's looking after me."

"And I won't keep her from you for too long. So how about we make a deal?" Qrow leant down slightly so he wouldn't tower over her as much. "Give me an hour or two with my niece to talk about some official Huntsmen business. In the meantime, can you to look after Zwei?"

At the mention of his name, the corgi bounded underneath the table and sat between Chisa and Qrow; looking between the two happily and patiently.

"He's been cooped up with me for too long, and seeing as Ruby's team is busy I'm gonna need to count on you to watch him."

"I never looked after a pet before," she answered sheepishly.

"That's fine. He doesn't need much in the way of care, but a set of eyes on him would be helpful." Qrow searched his pockets and pulled out a few lien. "Fifteen for your trouble. So how about it kid?"

Chisa looked up to Weiss and Ruby; the former shrugged her shoulders and the latter nodded encouragingly. The job was easy and it wouldn't take long for her to do. She was hesitant though, and was used to having someone looking after her. Whenever Sibyll left their home to deal with the surrounding Grimm, it was never for long. But maybe this was a chance to prove herself as someone who can look after herself when she needed to. She felt bad having to make Weiss and Ruby hesitate when their family wanted to talk with them. A final thought crossed her mind.

"Thirty."

"Huh?" Qrow voiced everyone's confusion at sudden exchange.

"Nora says that earning money should always be enough for you and someone you care about. If I get thirty, then Sibyll and I have get fair shares. She calls it a 'vestment' for the future. "

"The proper word is an 'investment' dear," Weiss corrected.

"Mhmm. Investment."

She held out her hand expectantly.

The older hunter shot a look at Ruby as if to wonder if the girl was serious. Ruby in turn simply nodded to the girl in front of her, implying that Qrow should agree to the relatively low terms. He squirmed a bit beneath the uncomfortably smug gaze Winter sent his wear as she folded her arms together; impressed that someone decades younger outwitted him. What made the feeling worse was when Winter actually smiled at him.

"You heard the young lady's offer Qrow. Or do you not care to help nurture a prospective future?"

"Enjoy it now while you still can," he grumbled in his thoughts. "Sure."

He pulled out additional lien and placed it into Chisa's hand. Her counting it in front everyone appeared to fuel the sly look on Winter's face to a point he had to step away.

"Alright then, we better get going." Anything to remove the small taste of defeat in his mouth would help. The further away from Winter Schnee, the better for him.

"Yes uncle Qrow." Ruby turned to Chisa and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "We won't be long okay. Make sure your scroll is on and hold on to it. If anything happens, you find a student or an adult and call any of us immediately. Don't take anything from anyone unless you pay for it, and—"

"I'll be okay Ruby," Chisa reassured. "I can do this."

"I know you can, but just make sure to say safe. Don't wander off too much, and keep Zwei with you at all times. He's small, but he's tough. If something DOES happen, he'll make sure to protect you at all cost."

Woof!

The corgi in question barked again at the mention of his name; his tongue lolled to the side from his happy grin. Chisa wasn't sure if Ruby was saying that to make her feel extra safe. Zwei was so small and little, like her, and she couldn't see how something like that was possible. Ruby is also the smallest of everyone at Beacon, but she's also strong and capable. Chisa looked back into the dog's dark eyes, wondering what he was actually capable of. As if sensing her dilemma, Zwei tilted his head to the side before taking off to run circles around Qrow. She watched how the older man watched the corgi for a few moments, excited yips and all, but it was the moment he took his eyes off of him that Zwei struck.

"Come on boy, that's enough—gah!"

Legs crumpled beneath him after the corgi tackled the back of his knees, and sent Qrow down to the floor. The sounds of restrained and censored complaints could be heard as Zwei climbed triumphantly onto the man's chest and sat down.

"Don't even say it Schnee…" he groaned.

"Is there anything to be said Qrow?" Winter chuckled behind her hand.

"Come on you mutt, time to get off."

Zwei remained rooted in his spot.

"Ruby…"

"Go on Zwei! Time to go."

He chuffed happily, but made no motion to leave. Instead, he looked back to Chisa.

"I guess I'm in your care then mister Zwei?"

At that, the corgi hopped of the huntsman's chest and took point in their departure. She gave everyone a final look, extended her farewells to them; a proper bow to Winter with her ears tucked back, and a brief, hesitant wave at Qrow before disappearing to the outside grounds. Qrow helped himself up and dusted off both debris and embarrassment that clung on. Ruby's snickering beside him was silenced the moment his knuckles ground on both sides of her head. There was a small exchange of empty threats and playful reminders of authority (or to Qrow's chagrin, "seniority") before he sent one last annoyed look at Winter. He'd let her soak in her glory now before find another opportunity to get back at her. He still has the Branwen charm and wit; all he need was the timing. The best he could do now was grin and bear it as he steered Ruby with him out toward the school grounds.

"You've surrounded yourself with… interesting company," Winter coolly noted as she watched them off. "Your partner and leader in particular seem to have some wit about her. If I'm to understand it correctly, she was his only combat apprentice."

"It's true," Weiss confirmed. "She did say that her weapon's design was loosely based on her uncle's."

"And it also explains why she's as reckless and tactless as Qrow. I'm still unclear as to why your headmaster thought it best to choose someone as young and unprepared as her."

"I admit she can be childish," Weiss reluctantly agreed, "but she's proven herself to be someone to count on when the moment calls for it. She cares about us and what we think."

"A leader who constantly confers with her team does not always inspire confidence."

"Winter—"

"I do not mean it in ill will sister," the older Schnee corrected. "It is admirable that she places great trust in you all, and that such faith in her team only reflects the potential of your collective capability."

Winter began to make her own exit as Weiss followed closely after.

"Yet do not forget who also surrounds you Weiss. The public is just as vicious and unforgiving as the Grimm beyond these borders, and if given the chance they will target you through her. Your leader must be decisive and commit to her convictions. If she falters, her failures are yours as well."

The sudden harshness of her sister's words bristled uncomfortably against Weiss' thoughts. It wasn't for lack of reason as the public had a tenacious habit of assuming the worst. Had her sister come to visit her earlier in the year, Weiss would have agreed. Ruby was unbearable as a partner who lacked discipline in many areas. When everything was riding on the family name, her chance to establish her own reputation, here comes this child to ruin everything. But that was then, and this is now. They had grown on each other, tolerated the flaws, and helped improve their strengths as a whole in small, almost insignificant ways. Weiss loved Winter, their mother, but somehow team RWBY made her feel at home with a "family". Her father and brother, Whitley, had always done something in her eyes to prevent her faith in their being a family. In name and the public, everything was as should be: "perfect." But she could never laugh openly and honestly in their presence without scrutiny or reprimand. She could never falter once lest the shame of failure set heavily on her mind. How Winter could have withstood such a burden, yet decide to leave and become a soldier of Atlas was beyond Weiss.

Or not as much as she believed.

With her upbringing, Weiss had no experience what life was like without excessive wealth. She never once mingled with those her father calls the common wealth, nor did she have knowledge what normal people did between study and training. It was only when Ruby had convinced her to slow down, to spend time with them that things began to change. And she had certainly failed on a few occasions; floundering when she had made some faux pas. The worst she would undergo are few moments of ribbing or teasing. They didn't demand for her to excel in everything, but only that she try her best. That was all they ever asked of her: to just try her best. And it was freeing that she could be allowed to fail and have someone support her in those losses. So it came to reason that she would feel troubled at thought of someone questioning her team.

"Is that a warning for her? Or for me?"

"I'm simply reminding you that people hold Huntsmen and Huntresses to a different standard," Winter tiredly explained. "You would think that after centuries of fighting, both Grimm and ourselves, that future generations would be grateful of our efforts. Regrettably, that isn't the case. Fear and lack of understanding will always give way to hastily made blame. They will criticize and condemn the lives who protect them, and that goes double for people like us Weiss."

For a brief of a moment, the heiress saw a sliver of composure break in her sister's eyes. This was a woman she'd admired so greatly, who could do no wrong, and yet there was weariness hinting at a different life. The impeccable façade must have held back the stress and responsibility of someone expected to never lose face. Whatever was sacrificed, whatever was suffered, and neither she nor anyone else in her family had known. Weiss wilted at the thought, and recalled the skirmish between her sister and Ruby's uncle. It was uncalled for both of them to act out in such a manner, and she did not know how uncouth the man could be. But for her sister to lose self-control that much must have meant more than Winter would dare to share.

"So be your leader's consul," Winter spoke up once more. "You have been graced with opportunities that none of your friends have, and that alone may give insight they may need. If you depend on each other like you greatly profess, then be sure to be the voice of reason when necessary. Even if that means you have to be the point of their ire."

"Yang…" the heiress remembered specifically. She would need to speak with her as well, if only to reach out before their team frayed further. "Of course Winter."

"Now, there is much to discuss and catch up on. News about this connection between Sibyll and… his 'friend' can wait. I do not want to sour the time we have with such seriousness. I want to know more about how you've been doing dear sister."

They walked beside each other, both keeping pace as the passed by students and visitors alike. Weiss glanced at Winter, and squared off her shoulders proudly like her. How long ago was it that she had been chasing after her? When was the last time she felt that her sister was almost out of reach? Now though, she walked together with her at her side; like an equal.

"I would like that very much." She let out a small smile.

"Good, because something in particular has come to my attention."

"Hmm?"

"Tell me Weiss," as Winter turned to smile back at her. It was a smile that outshone hers, destroying it completely, as it carried a sharp tinge to them. The eyes narrowed slyly, and a chill surged down Weiss' back. When did her sister ever have such a dangerous glint in her eye?

"Who is this blue haired paramour? Perhaps a brief introduction is in order?"

Ozpin read over the files he had copied from Sibyll's book once more.

It became a habit of looking over every detail, every transcribed image, between maintaining his school and the festival. Even when the words were legible and told of first hand events, they remained a complex mystery that was beyond normal comprehension. That was why the headmaster poured over each page carefully, trying as carefully as he could to remain as objective or subjective as necessary. Evidence of something larger continued to pile up, and he could no longer disregard the warning given by Sibyll. Even with the skepticism he faced from his deputy and peers, elements of the danger were beginning to match.

He brought up the test results of Sibyll's first arrival, and compared it with the other samples again. Again, he watched how the young hunter's blood cells acted erratically during the transfusion. It looked to be rejecting the new blood as the cells began to attack them swiftly. But upon closer inspection, Ozpin found that the hunter's blood was absorbing them at a rapid pace like some form of assimilation. It was only when nothing left of the transfusion did his blood cells come to a calm. When looking over Blake's results, the effects were the same. The same, however, could not be said for the samples Sibyll had brought back. They were vastly different in that the samples mutated rapidly instead of absorbing transfused blood into already existing cells. It didn't make sense how such a difference could be, or how fast mutation could happen on such a level.

The young hunter claimed that his blood once carried some form of strain that affects the blood. But what sort of disease or illness would actively help the body mend or regenerate? Was it a parasite perhaps? It couldn't possibly be the case as further medical investigation showed his body lacking anything of that sort. Both doctors and nurses he asked to look into to the matter found that his blood and the lack of aura were the only anomalies. If they weren't as skeptical about their findings, they would have said the man was in fine health; even if he was slightly underweight for his height. Ozpin returned his attention back to the blood, and wanted to rule out the notion of this Hunter's Dream mentioned constantly in Sibyll's notes.

An ethereal plane of existence where "Hunters" go to rest? Everything about its description appeared too fanciful, too unreal, yet Ozpin could not overlook one aspect about such a place. In the first of his entries, Sibyll recorded what he believed was a contract made to save his own life. Or as he believed it too be as even the man then could not recall any of the events before that. But what mostly stood out was how intricate the process the contract was; how invasive its questions were and how particularly they were phrased. Ozpin would have dismissed it were it not for the briefings he had down with team RWBY during Blake's incident. They and Oobleck have confirmed that whatever transpired to save the girl came at a cost, and the process was the detailed the same in the notebook.

The most shocking of truths was severe the price was paid for her survival. He had the medical staff do additional tests when the truth came to light, comparing her health records prior to her enrollment and after her change. For all intents and purposes, her blood was the same as Sibyll's. Yet it was a medical conundrum that she had undergone an entire genetic shift from a Faunus to that a human. He speculated her Faunus origins had some sort of hand in the change, even if the science couldn't wholly explain it. The young hunter's warnings about the change the White Fang were steadily undergoing proved that notion, yet Blake transitioned over completely. Why or how do the Faunus of the White Fang differ so greatly? The answer surely lies in the blood, but nothing in their records or the other kingdoms can explain it. Even Sibyll's notes were painfully guarded in his observations and recollections.

So it came to be that the only "logical" conclusion is that Sibyll, however the means, came to Remnant from somewhere else. There have been no records suggesting anything like what has happened in his school since the young hunter's appearance. Ozpin still has yet to go over the information Oobleck had pulled up for him from their library's archives. All of it vague in the belief of superstition, yet it was knowledge better than none.

He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.

There was still so much to do, so much investigate, yet the time available for them to prepare grew smaller with every moment. He could not guarantee the safety of his student's and Vale's citizens without the necessary information. Should they fail, it was not only the Council who would come bearing down on them but the public as well. Ozpin tapped a few commands on his console, removing excess information, and left only the copied entries hovering before him. There was only once piece of evidence that remained just as mysterious.

Some of Sibyll's pages descend into some unintelligible ramble or cipher. They were like a child's scrawl, no, a fervent man's scratching that were done in some haste. No discernible words could be made out, and in their place were symbols. Some spiraled or shot out into jagged forms, others looked to be enclosing on another symbol or elevating it. It was hard to say what the intent was, but maybe Ozpin didn't have the proper understanding required for such strangeness. He had tried to cross reference existing runes or symbols from across Remnant, but nothing was consistent. The moments of recorded lucidity did mention names and organizations not found in any database, but they were regarded divisively: some warmer than others.

Gehrman the Old Hunter

Eileen the Crow

Djura the Retired

Alfred the Executioner

The history of these hunters was limited, but the reveal about their many workshops were interesting. Their similarities to the academies in the kingdoms provided insight to Sibyll's skill as a Hunter. Ozpin continued to study what he could, even when he heard the sound of someone stepping into the room.

"Headmaster."

"Raven." He greeted without looking away. "Perhaps you can shed some light on the situation, considering this is your field of expertise."

She made her way to sit down in one of the seats before him, helmet tucked at the side. After she adjusted her weapon to remain at the chair's side, and she looked up at the holographic images with a stern gaze.

"With all due respect, sir, I feel your judgment is questionable."

He spared the woman a glance, surprised that she hardly aged since the time she was a student. Oh the scowl and seriousness stayed the same, but he would believe that her time as a Huntress sharpened it. His thoughts wandered to rest of her team, and sighed. Team STRQ was one of the best and brightest he had the honor of mentoring; a motley team no one believed would have survived the first years. Yet time changes people, and more so with long standing tragedy behind them. Ozpin reached for his mug, and took a long drink of the now cold brew.

"Insult or not, you are at least polite about it."

"You know that's not why I'm here."

"I have my conjectures," he mused. "I might also be led to believe that you mean to discuss our mutual friend."

"If that's what you call a friend, then I'm not entirely surprised." Raven leant forward. "But yes, I'm here about him."

"Hopefully I can dissuade you from needlessly harming him."

"I haven't yet, but I won't sit by if he falls to a frenzy again. He's dangerous," she reminded him. "You and Qrow have the wounds proving him so beyond doubt. Something more must be done about the current circumstance."

"And what would you have me do Raven?" he asked.

"Reconsider why you've given him so much clemency." Raven's answer was curt, and somewhat pointed Ozpin assumed. "I know your methods, but they only raise concerns with how quick you are to trust him."

"I had my share of suspicion," Ozpin admitted. "But I intended to question him diplomatically. He only became a danger after Ironwood pressed and provoked him to that point. With the situation now, however, he is the only source of knowledge we have to combat what may be coming our way. Unless you've changed your mind in aiding us, he's all we have left."

"I guess that explains why you've made accommodations for his every whim." Her tone was unimpressed, or more specifically disappointed. "You've allowed him to compromise your students, granted him both a residence and a hostage, and sent him off to parlay with the White Fang. You have given him every avenue of working his way to an advantageous position without resistance. Were it not for the fact that you have an unconventional way to things, I would have believed you were crazy all those years ago."

"It's good to see you're still perceptive as always Raven."

"You surround him with students you trust," she ignored him. "Even though it's a dangerous risk, you know their backgrounds well enough to confirm they're not the Queen's agents. They have no probable cause or motive to turn traitor."

Ozpin's brow furrowed at the mention of their unseen foe. He made it clear to Qrow certain information required the utmost discretion, even if Raven was close to him. Unless she was investigating on her own, he would need to confirm with the man another time.

"And like you, I'm using this as an opportunity to bait out whoever may be affiliated with or after him. It's the other reason why you've chosen those teams to surround him with, even after the reputation he was given. Aside from them, no other student would be rational to approach someone like him; those who do are the ones you're looking out for."

"Of which one team is already under investigation. Glynda is looking through their records, but nothing has come of it yet. The only point of concern is Sylvia Dubois, although 'concern' is putting it lightly."

A quirked eyebrow raised in question.

"The young lady appears more than enamored with him, and we're keeping an eye on that as well."

Raven rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the large windows behind him; a perfect vista of the Emerald Forest.

"And by allowing him to mediate with the Taurus boy, you'll gain both of their trust. He gives you an informant, someone to corroborate with, and anything more about those notes he hasn't committed to the page."

"So why the hesitancy Raven?" Ozpin countered. "Even if what you said wasn't true, why not help us by sharing what you know?"

"Because you've given him the girl."

She sunk back into her seat, hands folded together, but her eyes never wavered in their intensity. He paused to gather his thoughts, initially drawn to the idea of his student. His exchange of Belladonna for the young hunter's cooperation was thought to be a gamble in itself if Sibyll was a tactful deceiver. The young man could have said anything to scrape his way out of their hold on him. They had earned more than his ire, but Ozpin wished circumstances were different. He did not want his caution to be misunderstood as antagonism and set them at odds when they needed to work together. When they had fought, it was his intention to subdue the young man even when he had lost his senses within the violence. He thought that Sibyll's apparent "death" had been the end of things, before the body disappeared and arose some time later.

The mission to return him to custody was one of security; to protect people from becoming another accidental casualty. His surprise at Sibyll's return came with the confrontation of darker and more pressing matters. Tragedy followed closely behind this one individual, and now he warns of an impending danger meant for Vale. In spite of the criticisms and concerns from his closely trusted staff and peers, he still believed sending the young hunter was the best decision for them all. Call it years of intuition or a graciously lucky gut feeling, but something about Sibyll's return finally confirmed his trust in the man. Why come back at all? Why not use Addersfield as a cover for his retreat to the White Fang? If the reports about the battle that night were true, it puzzled Ozpin why a wanted man would stay and fight?

Those very questions guided his hand in agreeing to the deal. Ozpin knew that he wouldn't hurt you, and true to the man's word she wasn't. She confirmed the fantastical elements, the impossibly unbelievable, to be true and Sibyll wasn't their enemy. But that wasn't the girl Raven meant, even if her teammates believe him to be so callous and insensitive in doing so.

"Miss Cavell chose him," the headmaster finally answered. "And he accepted both her and the understanding of such responsibilities as her warden."

"A child Ozpin You're risking her life at the request of a child."

"One who has no one to go home to, or a home that will accept her after what happened that night. Miss Adel's reports show that her family hosted his stay, the closest association in a Faunus settlement reserved about human presence. Those very same people began to distance themselves from her and her father, even if she isn't aware of it."

"It's still irresponsible," Raven admonished. "She's a liability, a hostage. You should have surrendered her to the foster system in Vale as you're meant to, and they would find something suitable for her."

"A system you and I know is as flawed and unfair given public's sentiment of the Faunus."

"It was a mercy she survived at all. The world isn't so kind, and she would adjust in time to accept that."

"As one of my students has taken that to heart," he agreed. "Even if she is, in some ways, unlike her mother."

It was too low of a blow to even be considered a sane response. Ozpin did not flinch when Raven's disappointed leer turn into a vicious snarl. To hear that his student had disappeared on her family was disheartening, even if he understood the reason why she had done so. He knew the decision was hardly an easy one, but provoking the subject matter was the only way to break through her stubbornness. It was excessively cruel, and it felt worse for him to reopen someone else's old wounds.

"You have no right to criticize what I've done for this damned kingdom."

"I'm not undermining the sacrifices you've made Raven," he maintained. "You and your daughter have faced your share of grief, but you both had someone to depend on. There was someone to pull you from the brink of that despair. Your family, the Branwens, assured you of your cause. As did Summer when she looked after your daughter, and your brother to Taiyang."

A photo appeared between them; Sibyll and Chisa.

"It's a miracle she survived, but a miracle squandered by casting her aside. I could have arranged for her to be taken under the care of a decent and respectable family if I desired. She has certainly earned that much."

"Then why haven't—"

"Because she chose Sibyll expressly," he answered. "In all of her confusion, in that despair, she chose him because he would never hurt her. A new family would only estrange her, make her feel like halfhearted replacements for her emotional loss. I could not, in good conscience, take away the last bastion of her security."

Reports and debriefings appeared all around the photo. Day to day updates from Team CFVY leading up to RWBY's arrival and the incident itself, Vale police records about assault on a citizen, and several more around the city.

"But more importantly, I've placed Miss Cavell in his care because she is the very thing keeping him from becoming our enemy. Her presence anchors his morality, and that is valuable in maintaining both his trust and self-control."

He expanded the files to show firsthand accounts he had acquired in monitoring Sibyll's movements outside the kingdom's walls.

"Since their first meeting, every possible chance of a violent confrontation has been defused by her presence. It showed in Miss Adel's report with the girl's deceased father, telling of Sibyll's apparent hostility toward the Faunus of Addersfield. Considering his skill, he wouldn't have faced a challenge against their numbers. She had interceded; he withdrew before exhaustion took hold and he was under her family's care."

"And you think one child is enough to keep him docile?"

"She is enough to remind him of his humanity."

Ozpin moved from his chair and made his way around his desk; cane taken to his side. He leant back against it for support, but towered over Raven as he gazed down.

"I do not know what life he had before, or the sort of violence he enacted, but I hoped to provide an opportunity to step away from it. Many hold him in a suspicious light; my colleagues and myself, my students, yourself and your daughter, and people who fear him because he's different. You see him as an enemy, but you refuse to understand him and his motives. The few who try, the ones who treat him normally or with a small degree of empathy, are the ones he can trust."

He held the cane aloft, balanced perfectly in his hand.

"If I wanted a tool, I would have done as you or James would want. I would limit his movement, his contact, and given him stipulations to preserve his life. He would be useful as a means to an end, and would have been dealt with when the larger threat is over. But a tool is only useful if pliable under pressure. So what worth is a man's life if he doesn't value it? Doesn't value the fear of death? "

It was his first and only weapon, forged only through with tenacity and dedication of his will alone. Should the world itself turn on him, Ozpin knew that such faithfulness would never waver. But the cane did not comfort in the agony, nor did it revel in the victories won. All indulgences, every confided thought, ultimately fell on deaf ears for a weapon he a respects remained a tool. He could never see people in that manner, even if the sanctity of life in Vale demanded the sacrifices of his students; current and former.

"The rumors about him, Raven, show that he lacks self-regard as someone with no aura. His path leading up to Addersfield, the Grimm he encountered between those villages, are not of a man who sees his own life as valuable. Reports of his wounds, his indifference to the dangers, would have people like us question his sanity. He threw his life away to save your daughter's team, because dying appeared to only be a slight inconvenience. Does that not make you curious?"

He returned the cane at his side, the clacking sound echoed in his office.

"Whatever his agenda is, be they with or against us, it's the only thing driving him forward. His recklessness stopped when he met Miss Cavell, and she reminded him that he wasn't simply a tool to hunt down Grimm. I'm sure you know as well as I do that life as a Huntsman and Huntress dulls our sensitivity. We seek to protect the innocent, but we forget that we endanger ourselves in ways we cannot see ourselves."

"I don't need the lecture Oz," she cut in. "I came here because I wanted answers and a plan to deal with him. It seems I was wrong in thinking you'd see the larger picture."

The Grimm Huntress stood swiftly, and waved to summon a portal for her exit.

"You were one of my best students," Ozpin called out before she stepped through. "I respect all that you've done to protect your family, but you're more than just a Huntress. Please remember that."

He hoped she understood what the underlying message. Raven was one of the few who, like James, took her role as a student seriously. She hardly tolerated nonsense, and was capable of being brutally pragmatic. Were it not for her team to soften her heart, Raven would have been like Sibyll; dangerously indifferent to their own self-worth.

"You're wasting Qrow's time training that girl," she remarked. "When I find what and whom I'm looking for, I'll deal with it before coming back for him."

Once she stepped through, the portal shrank and disappeared. The headmaster hoped that she would have shared something to give them a direction. All he could do now was wait for the next move, and turned his attention to the files displayed over his desk. Each decision became increasingly difficult to make confidently, but he knew that the young hunter would bring back the piece necessary to strike first.

Sibyll touched down on the forest floor, and turned to watch the bullhead take off into the darkening sky. They traveled a great distance away from Vale, allowing him to take in the expanse of the land. It was impressive just how much land Vale encompassed within its borders, and how far forest stretched beyond. He sat in meditative silence throughout the flight, mulling over the information Qrow had gathered. The Fang's base of operation was underground with its entrance at the mouth of an abandoned mine. Apparently, it was one of many dust excavations that did not bear fruit as the miners were unable to find anything substantial. Only when the one of the tunnels collapsed did they declare the mine unsafe and abandoned it.

It brought to light a burning curiosity whom Adam's associate was, and how she found something deeper in the mines is... worrying. This woman seems too informed on something particularly ancient, and by Raven's warnings wholly unspoken. What sort of power or authority would a single person have to gain this sort of knowledge? Adam's warning about this woman had been brief, but she sounded dangerously charismatic to allow the Fang under her fold and willingly change them. Having that much sway would mean that there must be others he involved. Why else give the Fang what they may potentially want and risk mutiny? Sibyll assumed that the rapid and unnatural changes in the Faunus were intentional with a specific object in mind. The description of the desired objected he had be given by Adam was undoubtedly another chalice; a medium for rituals of unsound nature. Dread gripped his heart at the thought of something being stirred or summoned from their slumber. These entities existed out of sight and perception on purpose, and remained in a form of stasis until disturbed. Whether they were benevolent, malevolent, or indifferent was of no concern to him. He worked to stop anyone intending to use them and their insight for "progress" or calamity.

And it was best to let sleeping gods lie.

He searched his bag and produced a small, hip lantern. Light would be necessary for this trek into the dark, but only a small measure of it. Instead, Sibyll wanted to keep both hands free for the coming encounters with Grimm and Fang members alike. Both the Threaded Cane and Evelyn hung comfortably in his hands, finding comfort in their grip. It had been a while since they were used with lethal intentions, and he felt uncomfortably slack in their use. His vigilance was temporarily forgotten, and he needed to draw blood if necessary. With measured steps, he walked off into the darkness alone with his thoughts and messengers. Much has happened in the recent days, and his current solitude in the forest reminded him of the urgency of mission. He had been slow to return to work, too focused on everything else. The adjustment between both lives became difficult to cope with, and certain reasons came to mind.

The time spent looking after Chisa and the workshop was a reprieve he never knew outside of the Dream. Oh, the first days were daunting as Sibyll had no experience looking after someone so young. He was a Hunter trained by the most respected of Hunters, but he had to relax his usually cautious nature around her. She was terribly perceptive; reading him carefully to follow after his example. Her fears were what he had to consider, the gentleness of how he acts, and mindfulness to be aware of social conducts foreign to him.

His continued mentoring of Blake and association to her team provided company, even if reluctant. Everything he had to learn, that he had to experience for the first time, filled him with conflicting thoughts and troubled feelings.

It was wonderful.

It was a taste of what life would be like when his Hunt was over. There would be no more horrors to face, no further need to take up the blade night after night, and no weariness of the violence. Even if he could not recall the life he once had, Sibyll wanted to believe it was similar to what he had now. He had someone to care for and would care for him, and it would be a peaceful life when all was said and done.

His footfalls continued to tread upon the grassy path, and the thought about the workshop in the Emerald Forest. Its isolation was enough for him, but he had the little one to consider. Chisa would certainly grow with time, and it was necessary for her to return to the larger world. Would he go with her into the still overwhelming city with its technology and noise? Would he able to let her go and spread the wings of her eventual independence?

And what of Blake?

He paused, searching the area for sound and movement before pushing on. Blake would certainly have her duties as a Hunter in this world, but the risks of infection to the Grimm remains a danger. The Alpha Beowolf from before was a product of his own carelessness, an abomination that should not be in this world. And if she were ever to be the cause of another… The thought of it bristled against his better judgment. Sibyll trusted her to value a more tactical approach to the Hunt now more than ever. She still had to temper her mind against the lure of blood lust that lay dormant in her body. Team RWBY would look after her, or so he overheard from their declarations to do so. It was the price necessary for their friend's well being, a long standing fear of having to face Blake should she ever succumb.

Sibyll kept track of his progress, referring to his scroll when needed, but his thoughts continued to drift. He longed to keep the life he had with Chisa, but there was still the matter regarding Gehrman and the Doll's unusual state. The Dream persisted for now, yet it would be folly to think it would hold forever. A final though cross his mind; one that sent an unfamiliar chill down his back. If he succeeded in preventing this, could he actually stay? It was a thought he hadn't considered with how occupied his attention was. Sibyll was still a stranger to these lands, but he now had someone to care for. Would he be sent back to his own world? The image of Chisa alone once more made him pause mid stride. He vowed to look after the girl, but if had to be sent back… No, not now. He needed to focus on the task at hand. It would be something to worry about later.

He stayed the course ever since his arrival, but finding his mentor would be nigh impossible without the one link in this underground base. He hoped Adam would give him answers pointing him in the proper direction, and that the faunus had taken his warning to heart. Sibyll respected the young man; admired his dedication to the cause, but danger also lies in devotion. He could only spare the faunus who remained untouched. Convincing their leader to allow this is, as Blake claimed, worthy of having him killed for suggesting it. Still, better to try and gain Adam's blessing than incite him as an adversary.

The faintest sound rustled some distance away, and the young hunter came to a halt. Most assume the disturbance to be natural; wind passing through the trees, or an animal scuttling off to safety. Nothing apparent signaled danger as Sibyll remained alone in the forest. No Grimm has crossed his path in the time he traveled, and he was careful to keep a close eye on his surroundings. If he were still a fledgling hunter, he would have pressed on. His hands gripped his weapons tightly as he dropped into a defensive stance. It was barely discernible, but his ears caught sign of careful movement out in the darkness of the trees. Each step was done slowly, minding the terrain to making minimal noise as possible. These were telltale signs of someone stalking their mark, just outside the range of his hip lantern.

"No need to be frightened," he called out. "Even as strangers, I mean you no harm. Come, and step out into the light."

If it were a beast, the young hunter would know for sure by the nature of the ambush. He waited in the silence and received no answer. More subtle steps were made as he took one forward."

"If you have reason to follow me, it is better that we be discuss what—"

At the faintest sound of a click, he threw himself into a roll at the cover of a tree as bullets rained down where he once stood. Specks of dirt shot up in a trail to follow him, splintering the wood upon impact. The young hunter's back braced the trunk as the gunfire continued, but he now had a general direction of the treetop the intruder was perched at. Evelyn's barrel peeked around the side, and blindly fired a round upwards. It halted the attack, but he didn't hear the signs of registered pain; only a startled s intake of breath before resuming the barrage.

Hoping to gain a better visual of the attacker, Sibyll dashed around the tree and toward the hail of bullets itself; ducking and weaving as best he could to follow the muzzle's flash. They were cleverly placed; tucked against the tree itself where many of the branches wove into one another. Firing back would be difficult through the dark and leafy cover. It was a challenge he was willing to take, and he aimed up at the tree before something else struck his side. His body followed the swing of the weapon, turning his head just in time to see a black and white uniform rush by into the cover of a different tree. A stray bullet grazed his arm, and left a small crimson tear as the gunfire stops. Sounds of a firearm reloading was enough to urge Sibyll away from the current battlefield.

Two threats were manageable if he had the space and awareness to strike back. The forest worked with and against him, yet whoever these people were had been able to gain the upper hand in mere moments. They were quicker, striking hard and fast before he could hope to retaliate. He would've have commended their efforts, respecting their craftiness if they were reasonable. Instead, the young hunter forced himself to run through the trees as fast as he could; cutting through narrow trunks whenever bullets whizzed past him. His pursuers were on him but their noise grew louder, telling of growing numbers.

There would be no time to spare a glance back to see just how many they were. The Threaded Cane clicked into its whip form and lashed out when someone braved the chance to come closer. White Fang members would lurch away from the whips arc unnaturally, their bodies folding just slightly out of the way. Their chase advanced deeper into forest as their laughter began to fill the air. A cacophony of vicious mirth followed him, taunting him like dogs nipping at his heel. By the nature of their labored and manic breathing, he knew they promised savagery. Closer and closer they pushed, growing all the more bolder. Sibyll knew there wouldn't be enough time to reload his gun, and that they were watching his cane carefully; timing its retraction rate by prodding at his reflexes.

In seconds they would all descend upon him.

It was exactly what he hoped for.

A snarl tore across the air as someone following from the treetop leaped at the young hunter, gnarled and sharp fingers reaching out to him. Separated by mere inches, the White Fang pursuer's eyes grew wide as Sibyll ducked just into the beast's guard; eyes tightly shut while he palmed something against its face. Bright flames ran across the face of his enemy, sending out sporadically explosive sparks. The noise itself was deafening and he hoped the startling noise was enough to halt their ambush. Thankfully his time spent experimenting with dust and local Grimm paid off into something special.

When he felt his body crash against the earth, the young hunter pushed himself into a roll and at his feet to continue his escape. His vision still struggled to make sense of the dizzying darkness, knowing he had put a bit too much yellow dust into the flammable concoction. Still, these were unlike what Blake had described her former brothers and sisters to be. Most of them had to be relatively new, under trained or lacking combative experience at all. Their numbers were meant to be a show of force, and that not many of them were meant to be involved in a fight with authorities or Hunters. This was a first hand look at how dangerous their change was, and they were unlike the afflicted in Yharnam. Their movements were quicker and more instinctive, but that would have to be dealt with later; preferably when he wasn't outnumbered and pursued.

"A sneaky one huh? Oh ho ho this is going to be fun." A voice goaded some way behind him.

"Not if I get him first! He's not like the other one... so tasty and juicy!"

"You greedy wretch, always taking first crack! Share the spoils!"

"Don't let this one escape!"

The young hunter's vision began to clear, and saw his standing ground just head. There would be enough open space for him to move, and the fallen logs would act as boundary markers. All he needed to do was goad them in properly. He reached into his coat and pulled out another modified Molotov; the rope tried around the neck of the bottle spun around his hand like a sling.

"Can't be clever with that trick twice!"

Sibyll timed his attack the moment he jumped over the log and swung the bottle against it. Explosive flames licked up behind him once more and caught someone at the point where it burned hottest. Agonizing screams followed him over and to the floor, vigorously trying to douse the oiled fires that clung to their form. He pushed toward the center of the defensive terrain and turned to face his quarries; loading another round into Evelyn as the White Fang formed a perimeter around him. With the exception of the one on fire before him, they were five in total and brandished a variety of firearms and bladed instruments.

Collectively, there was something wrong about the way they looked. The sizes varied, but their physical presence appeared to accentuate their muscular features. Those with a large build appeared to thicker, tougher in form as their uniforms could barely contain the potential raw power. Members who were leaner were definitely more agile and the fastest of the group, keeping pace him in hopes of directing him elsewhere. It was only when the young hunter looked closely at their faunus feature did his hold on the weapons tighten. Fangs protruded starkly, hands appearing like claws, and all the ears, horns, and tails appeared to be more feral.

"Given up so soon?" One sneered. "But we were just starting to have fun."

"You are mistaken," the young hunter answered. "Where we met did not feel the most appropriate to discuss, and hopefully now would be the time to speak."

"There's nothing to be said human," another answered. "You're in our territory and the only payment is blood."

Sibyll glanced at his arm and back to them. They didn't appear concerned about their still suffering comrade; all their eyes remained on him.

"I believe that would need to stay inside of my body, if you please."

"We don't."

They made to move closer, but the Evelyn's roar halted their advance. Whoever the person on fire was became still as their head became a crimson splatter against the grass. Once more the young hunter fed another round into his gun.

"Now, now," be reprimanded. "There is no need for haste because I have been searching for you. All that I ask is that you take me to Adam Taurus. He is expecting my arrival."

Sounds of murderous glee gave way to caution. Their grins grinning faces narrowed thinly at him in suspicion, murmuring among themselves.

"What would our brother need of another filth human?"

"I am the one responsible for his release in Addersfield. Mention my name to him and he will confirm my claim as true."

"Bullshit! He's just buying time to escape!" Someone made to move against him, but was held back by one of the larger members; a large arm looped around the neck and squeezed tight.

"Even if he was, who says you'll get first bite?" that one snarled. Their attention was divided, and it would help from turning the situation against him once more. If there was a small chance that they could be reasoned with, all the better. If not... He'd only need one of them to guide the way.

"Everyone please," the young hunter interjected. "I assure you that I pose no threat to your leader."

"You killed one of our own!"

"In self defense. You provoked my need to act accordingly, and will continue to do so until I meet with your leader. I advise that we be reasonable and spare any further bloodshed for your sake."

That earned a few chuckles before being silenced by the larger White Fang members. They still surrounded him, but Sibyll had a firmer grasp on their position even if they appeared to be stronger than anticipated.

"I don't think you'll be making visits any time soon." They were began to converge on him. "It was fun while it lasted human. Not many people who we come across is as perceptive as you, but you blew your chance of survival calling us out."

Sibyll kept his his guard up, but could not stop the look of confusion on his face.

"I was indeed searching for the White Fang, but it was not you whom I was addressing."

He wasn't deceiving them.

Granted, the sudden presence and attack of the faunus was a surprise. Yet the presence he heard stalking him throughout the forest was patient; measuring their distance from him and maintained it. He believed they were only watching him with no intent to approach or accost him. The group around him believed otherwise. They pushed closer with weapons at the ready.

"What? You want us to believe that you were expecting someone else-"

The tip of a blade pierced through the chest of an unsuspecting Fang member at his right. Pained gurgles struggled to push the the blade free before it withdrew and struck again. The attack was swift and efficient; angling the weapon to avoid bone and drew forth grievous wounds. Sibyll caught the scent of the blood carried on the air, and could recall a familiarity with the afflicted at Addersfield... with something else. Within the confusion, he quickly shifted his attention to the owner of the blade. No one stood immediately behind the dying man, but he followed a single steel thread coming from within the forest. He made to speak, but struggled to find the appropriate words when the figure stepped out.

"I half expected the Branwen woman to come to my aid." He smiled. "Color me surprise Miss Polendina."

"I'm sorry Mister Sibyll," Penny apologized earnestly. "You looked to be in trouble and I have to make sure your safety is guaranteed."

"Your timing is impeccable." The young hunter looked back to the White Fang. "Shall we?"