Prologue-

Qrow took another long drink from his flask.

Two weeks out here in the wilds, tracking a lead on the Red Queen; and he hadn't found a goddamn thing. His supplies had finally run dry, and that was as good a signal as any to finally call it quits. Especially since he was almost out of alcohol; food, he could go without, but liquor?

Now that was a whole different story.

Sliding his flask back into his shirt pocket, he fumbled about his pack for a moment, before finally pulling out a worn out compass and a crumpled up map. Normally, he'd prefer to rely on the use of his scroll rather than some old antique junk like this, but the CCT's signal didn't reach this far out into the Grimm lands, so he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. After a good couple of minutes of trying to figure out where in the hell he was, Qrow tossed the equipment back into his pack before he continued walking down the path towards the nearest village.

According to the map, the settlement was a good day's walk away. That was, if you stayed on the path anyway. From what he could make out from the map, Qrow could see that there was a quicker way there. The standard trail had one going all the way around a forest, rather than just straight through it. Which made sense, for safety reasons, since it was a lot easier to get ambushed by the Grimm deep within a forest of trees than it was out in the open prairie.

Of course, this meant that straying off the path this far out from the kingdoms was a rather treacherous idea, but it had been over two weeks since he'd been able to go to a bar, and he was getting a bit antsy.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't a tad bit irritated at his findings, or lack thereof, so he needed to vent out some of his frustrations anyway. And what better way to get rid of some stress than by killing a couple of unlucky Grimm that would undoubtedly come after him were he to stray off the path?

Stepping off the trail, he batted away a hanging tree branch as he made his way into the forest. He kept a hand on the handle of his weapon as he continued to knock away the occasional hanging branches that would get in his way. He'd take a sip here and there from his flask as he continued to trudge on before something strange caught his eye.

The dense amount of flora around him seemed to start to thin out. Trees that should've normally been there were now nothing more than blackened stumps. Bushes and other forms of plant life looked as if they were starting to decay and rot away. Curious as to the reasoning for this, Qrow found himself straying off from the forest into an empty clearing.

The deeper in he went, the more corrosion and deterioration there were. Even the grass underneath his boots had lost their green sheen and were now a dead yellow. Things only got stranger as he continued his walk deeper into the now dead meadow, a strong stench of rot and gangrene soon began take over his sense of smell. Qrow had dealt with death enough to know that whatever the source for this unruly stench was, it was probably long dead.

When he finally found the culprit for the terrible stench, the smell had gotten so strong he had to pinch his nostrils shut. The rotting carcass of some long dead animal, and from what he could make out of its remains, it almost looked like a Beowolf. A twisted, mutated version of one anyway, with a much more prominent coat of fur and set of claws.

Which brought up the question of just what exactly he was looking at. It was a common known fact that the Grimm didn't leave behind corpses; there had never been a case in recorded history of a type of Grimm that left behind a body. Upon closer examination, Qrow could see that rotting carcass had numerous wounds throughout its body. Scratch marks, puncture wounds that belonged to a set of sharp teeth rather than a weapon, and other similar injuries that pointed towards the killer being another Grimm rather than a huntsman.

The paw prints on the ground nearby and the kicked up dirt indicated that a pack of Beowolves had passed by here recently. Whether or not they had been the ones responsible for killing this… Creature however, he was unsure of. The tracks continued on, leading deeper into the strange clearing and Qrow found himself staring.

Now having his curiosity further peaked, Qrow followed the tracks and continued his expedition deeper into the clearing.

As he trudged on, he was soon met with the most peculiar of sights. There, lying perched upon a decaying tree stump, was a figure that was distinctly humanoid in nature. As he stepped in closer and got a better look, he could make out the unmistakable feminine features of the person in question.

"A woman…?"

Slowly making his way closer, he made sure to make some noise with his footsteps, as to not startle the person from behind.

"Hey," Qrow called out, "What's a lady like you doing way out here in the wilds?"

No response.

Qrow briefly raised an eyebrow before he shrugged. Pulling out his flask, he took a sip as he made his way towards the woman, circling around until he stood in front of her. The first thing that he noticed was how pale she was, almost like a… Corpse.

"Well," Qrow muttered to himself, "At least now I know why you didn't respond."

The woman didn't respond because she was already dead. Her skin was deathly pale, her clothes were bloodstained, as well as old-fashioned, and yet in spite of that, she still had an almost cold-like beauty about her. Qrow would almost say that she looked peaceful, sitting there underneath the evening sun, were it not for the fact that seeing another young woman no longer in the world of the living only left a sour taste in his mouth.

It reminded him all too much of Summer.

Qrow didn't know who she was or how she died, and a corpse wasn't going to be giving him answers anytime soon. The two sheathed swords by her sides and the material of her clothing suggested that she could've been a huntress, but at this point, that was only speculation.

He brought a hand over his hair and rubbed it back.

Of course, it was only with his luck that a fruitless job would lead to him coming across a corpse in the middle of nowhere.

Huntsmen died on the job all the time; that was simply how it was. Thus, it was considered to be common courtesy for fellow huntsmen on the job to at the very least, identify who the deceased were and bring the news back to their respective kingdoms. That was why most huntsmen carried some form of identification with them at all times. Qrow wasn't sure if she was a huntsman or not, but there was only one way to find out.

With a sigh, he leaned forward and reached out towards her coat.

Only for a cold, pale hand to firmly grasp onto his forearm in retaliation. Qrow's eyes narrowed in response, as the woman's own eyes slowly opened, revealing dull grey irises.

"A corpse… Should be left well alone."