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And onto tonight's wonderful tale…~Voltegeist

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Oh, I am. *Coils whip around an arm* Hello again! Miss me? ~ Mika

Always ~ Twisted

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So with several realizations of story lines and through lines, and with RWBY Volume 6 coming out, after this chapter this story will be going on hiatus for some time while I do research on items for it, plan things, and watch the Volume coming out for needed material. Hopefully, once the Volume is under way I will get the material I need for the story to continue much further. I added a second fight scene, though, so… There's that, I guess?

Apologies for the inconvenience, in all seriousness.

Now to explain the delay. A server on Discord called 'Work in Progress' is responsible. It's horrible, truly. The rules are sometimes not even stated to you until you break one, the punishments are the same, the mods are biased in the extreme - one of them outright said to me 'I know how to deal with your kind to get rid of you for example - and genuinely just ruined my writing mood at every point. Several people were disruptive to conversations - yes, that's against the rules, no, they didn't get punished, yes, I got in trouble for asking them to leave me along - and just as many were rude and intolerant of basically anything that I said.

I left the server, because it was hindering my ability to work, after I politely asked someone who had already insulted me and dragged me through the mud three times - got in trouble once of course and I got in trouble two other times - to leave me alone and stop interrupting a conversation I was having.

Delays on that end are gone now, I just needed to vent a bit, you know. Ignore a prattling asshole.

~ Twisted

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"Already?" Jaune asked, surprised when he felt the small Bullhead they were in - a private craft of Winter's, he guessed from the snowflake emblazoned on one side, mirrored by the Atlesian icon on the other - tilt its nose down slightly, coming in for a landing. Goodwitch looked to him with a raised brow, and he added, "I had assumed the trip would take longer, that is all."

"We have only gone part of the way as of now, Jaune. Though so long as nothing happens to prevent it, we should get all the way there quickly enough." She smiled coyly at him, and part of him wondered if that was some kind of joke. Instead, used to her by now, he dismissed it and reclined on the comfortable chair in the back of the small craft. Glynda chuckled at something, and added, "I'm happy, though, that Winter could secure this for us. It's far more comfortable than the standard Beacon ones."

And that was very much true, even if Jaune didn't really care much about that. But the interior was spacious enough, with two comfortable chairs facing the back of the craft and placed against the cockpit, and plenty of room in the back storage compartment for the things they'd needed. It wasn't terribly overly designed or decorated, made in the typical Atlesian blends of silver, white and grey, and with the typical curving style and functional design premises that most Atlesian tech tended to be developed towards. If he had to place his Lien, he'd have placed it on this being some kind of military transport made for officers or dignitaries. The heavier plating and heavy, twin machine guns mounted under its nose both pointed to that as being the most likely case, coupled with the insignias and Winter's ability to simply appropriate it for her own use.

"This mission is an official one." He murmured, an eyebrow raising ever so slightly at the idea while he scratched his chin, using the movement to subtly toss his medication into his mouth as well. Just in case. Glynda gave him a curious look and he shrugged, "Nothing, Headmistress Goodwitch, just… Thinking out loud, I suppose. What are the specifics of the plan for this expedition?"

"We will be scouting and Hunting the forests around Beacon Academy. In the process, we will clear out any and all Grimm we find, and chart out the kinds and their numbers." He raised his eyebrow again in curiosity and she answered, "Surveying, comparing the numbers of types of Grimm each year to guess the numbers in the next. An area with more Beowolves than anything else one year tends to have even more of them in the next, after all."

"Makes sense, even if they don't breed." Jaune shrugged, "They seem to produce from wherever they come from at regular intervals, so if those ones in particular are surviving the are, then more will keep stacking up on top of the survivors."

"A place with common and heavy storms will have more land-based Grimm compared to the avian or aerial draconic kinds than normal, yes." Glynda agreed, seeming to actually enjoy the conversation more than he'd expected. The indicators were small ones, of course, barely more than slightly turning to face him more and a small smile quirking the edges of her mouth in a pleased smile. "And if their numbers are not culled regularly, then they rapidly climb out of control. Which is why we're out here."

"It seems odd that esteemed Huntresses and staff would trust someone without license on such an important mission." He noted as diplomatically as he could, the question behind it clear as day. Still, Goodwitch simply gave him an amused - likely at his attempt to be subtle, if he had to guess - and he growled before adding, "Why would… Whoever authorizes this kind of thing, why would they let me be on it?"

"Because the person who requisitioned the contract was Winter, and the person who requested and processed it on Beacon's end was myself and the Headmaster." She answered, giving him a meaningful look, "In part, he hoped that allowing you to pursue field activities and do the duties demanded of a Huntsman would make all of this more pleasant for you. Pleasurable, even, if all goes as well as I hope it to in the end."

"It should." Jaune shrugged, smiling confidently, "Grimm like these shouldn't be a problem for me alone. And with you two with me? Little more than a particularly vigorous workout to enjoy."

"Vigorous indeed…" She chuckled and stood, leaning against his chair for support as the craft listed to the side, Winter probably looking for a place to land or trying to angle the landing itself properly to not ruin the craft. She laid a hand on his shoulder, her hip resting against his arm, and he swallowed at the sudden proximity. A proximity she ignored, adopting a more serious tone as she spoke, "You need to understand, Jaune, that it's us three alone out is an excellent combatant in melee, but she has little staying power, and I am almost purely a supporting fighter. If you get stuck in a brawl…"

"I'll be on my own, and need to protect myself while you work towards me." Jaune finished the thought for her, nodding understandingly and continuing in what others might have called a deathly calm voice, "It's why I am armed and armored, Ma'am. And how I was trained, as an aside."

"How you were trained?" She asked, curious now in a slightly different way than before. Less concern in her voice, more genuine curiosity or base thirst for knowledge. Which made sense, she seemed the type to enjoy knowing things.

"A combination style my father invented and experimented with when I was young." The young blonde answered, "Combines an old Mistralian principle of heavy armor and staying power with the Atlesian principle of a reliance on individual combat prowess and Aura usage to augment combat capabilities. That includes my Semblance, of course."

"Elemental infusion, correct?" He nodded, and she smiled almost sarcastically, "Not precisely a good Semblance for one meant to fight on their own, is it?" He simply shrugged, electing not to comment, and she continued, "Just be careful, Jaune."

"Hm." The woman opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when the ship suddenly listed to the side, almost throwing her onto him. Outside, the muted whirring rattle of the chainguns blaring to life sounded, and he rose, gripping his seat in one hand and wrapping an arm around Goodwitch when she almost fell, looking into eyes so close he saw them widen at the proximity, "What is happening?"

"I am not-"

"Nevermore attacking, along with Fae." Winter's voice crackled across the intercom system wired throughout the ship, the craft jerking again as she adjusted her path suddenly. "Attempting evasive action and combating them, but there are a lot of Fae out there, and they're trying to get onto the transport."

"Fae…" He nodded, looking at the blonde woman, pressing her back into him and as much supporting his own standing as he supported hers. Grunting, he reached for the door's latch, "I'm going out there, Winter. Bypass the locking mechanisms."

"Negative, you'll get swarmed, Jaune, and we're at least fifty feet in the-" Something slammed into the hull and the woman suppressed a sound somewhere between a surprised noise and a swear, and then sighed into the microphone, sending static across the line. "Glyn, Fae on the outside, I can't detach them like that. Make a call, I can't split my attention further and Summon at the same time."

"Jaune." He looked over his armored shoulder at the woman, standing behind him intently and regarding him in the same way. "Do you have a plan?"

"Yes." He answered, plucking his axe from his back and testing the weight in his hand comfortably. His eyes looked to hers, and he simply said, "Trust me, or don't. Make the call, Glynda, so we can get to work. Before we end up a charred mass of steel and bone on the ground below, if you don't mind."

"Open the door, Winter." Goodwitch sighed finally, face setting into stone as a green light flickered on over the door and her own green eyes narrowed and hardened warningly. "You had better come back to me, Jaune Arc. Few are those in this planet to have tasted my lips, and if you waste that I shall not forgive you."

It was the first time she had actually mentioned the kiss outright, and he blinked slowly in surprise at the statement, a thousand questions springing into his head and demanding answers. But he schooled himself quickly enough, now was not the time for such an emotional reaction after all, and nodded stoically instead. He could always ask questions later, if he felt it necessary, after they were all assured of at least their own lives not being summed up with the image of so much raspberry jam smeared across the forest floor far below.

The door slid out and up along the top of the hull, and he had to brace his shield-arm against the edge of the door to avoid the pressure difference and the wind sucking him from the craft as Winter's piloting buzzed them along, trying to evade several Nevermore while Fae swarmed around the craft, trying to find purchase on the surface with their small claws. He hated Fae, more than almost any other kind of Grimm that there was, because of what they looked like.

Small and humanoid in shape, only slightly shorter than Jaune himself but with a more wiry and light frame to allow the large insectoid wings to lift them and propel them, Fae were mildly abnormal for Sanus. Especially so far inland, the creatures tended to favor islands and coastlines, and Menagerie as a whole. Large horns sprouted from the top of their heads, the bone-white plating making it almost look like an armored helmet, and stuck straight up in the air. Their torso, shoulders, and upper legs were all lightly armored in the typical Grimm plating, but lighter and overlapping almost like plated mail.

Mail that, when one shot at him with a bestial snarl and the hopes of boarding clear, did little to stop his axe biting down through its shoulder and across its torso. The two pieces fell away, and he leapt at the next as it closed with him like the first had, extending his shield as he flew into open air and slamming the rim into its jaw, and then through it, decapitating it and hurling his axe at the next as his leap faltered and he began to fall. The blade bit into its chest and it staggered in the air, fluttering down slightly and gripping the axe-blade in what might have passed for shock.

Hoping almost enough to murmur a prayer, he held his shield out and activated the powerful magnet, pulling himself through the air and up a couple feet to the Grimm. Without anything to anchor him, even the light wingbeats of the creature were enough to anchor it more than him, and he smiled as he wrenched his axe free with a wet sound, the dying creature fluttering away weakly as he leapt at the next creature and roared, the sound as lost to the wind as the sound of his axe cutting through air flesh and bone was.

An arm and a wing fell at the wsing, and another Fae latched onto his back as the previous fell to its death far below, clawing at his armored back and chest weakly. Another lunged at his chest, and his axe lopped its head off, his left elbow slamming into the face of the one grappling him three times before its grip on his shoulders finally loosened and he turned in its grasp, using the blade of his axe to slit its throat and then kicking it away. Turning at movement in the corner of his eyes, those same eyes widened at the open maw of a Nevermore and his shield came up on instinct as the beak closed around him, planting his boots on either side of its beak and hoping the soles would hold up and feeling his shield press against his shoulder while he braced it above him.

Hefting his axe, he brought it up across his chest and into the Grimm's beak, where the bottom jaw hooked with the tip and into the skull. It cried out in pain every time his axe bit down, until he finally felt the bottom jaw fall out from under him, the creature reeling in pain while he started to fall, hurling his axe up and into the joint of its wing to pull himself up with the magnet again before he could fall too far.

On its shoulder, griping its feathers with his shield arm, he slid his grip to the bottom of the axe's handle and raised it, batting away one of the few Fae left and watching Winter's machine guns tear into a Nevermore to his side. Then he brought the axe down on the Nevrmore's joint, right where the wing connected, feeling flesh and bone slice away as he struck at it again and again. Finally, the limb went limp, and he let himself float off the creature and fell towards the ground without anymore convenient Nevermore or Fae to slow himself down.

Instead, he hurled the axe ahead of himself so hard it set him spinning, and used it and his shield to form a sort of magnet-grappling hook. The magnetism was nowhere near enough to stop him, but it did manage to slow a fall that would have smeared him into the ground into one that only sent him sprawling with a groan instead.

Little successes, had to take them sometimes.

Another Nevermore cried out overhead, and he groaned as he rose, pointing his shield at his axe embedded in a tree high above him. The magnet hummed, but the axe didn't budge, and he sighed as he looked up at the Grimm and spread his arms like the creature's wings as it prepared its attack, "Come on then, show me what you have then!"

It did, flashing its wings forward and sending a volley of feathers at him the size of ballista bolts and he slid into a defensive stance in the hopes of deflecting and dodging as many as he could manage. They made it a third of the way to him before they stopped, curving around in two swarms and back up at the Grimm, skewering it a thousand times as the transport craft circled for a landing finally.

Now he had to figure out how to get his axe down. Luckily, Goodwitch was around, so maybe she'd help him with her Semblance. Though, judging by her stormy expression as the craft came in to land, he doubted that somehow.

And this had supposed to have been a simple hunt.

"You're lucky to be alive, Jaune." Goodwitch said when they had finally landed and then trekked a short way to a small clearing that Winter had designated as their first campsite. Whether she meant from the Grimm or her own ire, "Leaping out of a flying vehicle, and using the Grimm to stay in the air… Insanity."

"It worked." He shrugged, cleaning the edge of his axe on a log in front of his small, green tent. One of two, the other belonging to Goodwitch and Winter, and sat across from the fire from him. "That should be what matters. And besides, did you not fling myself and others into the air at Initiation."

"That…" She trailed off, grimacing and sighing a moment later, "Alright, that is a rather good point, I suppose."

"You could have told us your intentions, though." Winter added, sitting beside the woman on another log. Like his, it had been a tree, until they'd made him cut it down for Glynda to break apart for fuel for their fire and seats to enjoy it. "We could have, and would have, supported you if you had just told us your intentions. Mounted machine guns are better against a Nevermore than a man fifty feet in the air with an axe, usually, after all."

"Hm." He grunted, raising his axe to check for any grime before setting it aside, watching the fire for a moment before finally speaking again, "I guess you have a point. I'll warn you next time, I promise."

"See that you do. I will not be reporting a student's death to Ozpin, or your team, because you saw fit to leap into a Nevermore's mouth." Goodwitch sighed, shaking her head and using her Semblance to toss a log into the fire. He made to respond, and her eyebrow rose warningly, so he relented and held his tongue with a grumble instead. "Now then, if everyone is comfortable, we should discuss our plans for tomorrow. The Trolls that were reported are somewhere nearby, and finding them is our job."

That, at least, made sense to Jaune. Better than these troublesome women, at least. And do they have to cuddle so closely together? They had a fire, they couldn't possible be cold, and if they were they had blankets as well. Perhaps they just preferred something a bit more physical.

A thought Jaune went to pains to ignore as they planned out he next day's events. That way lay madness, he knew.

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Something about the forest, Jaune had always found, was simply wonderful to wake up to. The wind rustling through the trees, the clouds high above tinged in fiery hues of red and orange as the sun rose over the mountains surrounding Vale, matched by the leaves of the trees around him that themselves were like fire made form had grown from the ground itself to adorn the trees themselves. In the distance, almost out of hearing, Jaune could just manage to make out the sounds of birds singing and pecking at trees, and above that, a river nearby that bubbled along its path quietly.

To him, this was one of the most beautiful things in the world. And he sat, axe laid across his lap, whetstone scraping quietly and firmly across its edge methodically while he hummed and allowed himself to relax at least marginally, occasionally adding wood to the small fire he'd made to warm in the morning and make food when everyone awoke finally.

Which didn't take long, and he heard them rise long before they actually came out, the two women getting ready for the day inside their tents while he set some coffee on a small tripod next to the fire for them, and fished out some rations. Not a glorious meal, to be sure, but packed with protein and - possibly more importantly, in some ways - caffeine as well.

"Good morning, Jaune. I see you're making coffee for everyone." Goodwitch greeted, stretching as she joined him around the fire and catching the ration bare he gently pitched at her, sighing, "One thing I always know is coming and dislike, is these ration bars. Every last one has a flavor label, and every last one tastes like chalk."

"They do the job they are meant to do, that's all I ask for." Jaune responded, taking in the woman's outfit with a somewhat critical eye.

She'd traded out the skirt for tight fitted white pants, made of thick enough material to keep her warm and dry enough and almost definitely meant to add some protection as an aside. Along the seams on the sides white, swirling patterns traced along the outside of the woman's calf and thighs, probably Dust lacing to reinforce them and augment the woman's abilities if he had to guess. Lightly armored boots with the same swirls of frost-like patterns and short, almost nonexistent if he was honest, heels protected her lower legs and feet. A prohibitively expensive item to own and wear for a normal woman or even a normal Huntress, to be absolutely sure, but for the Headmistress of Beacon who herself was on friendly terms with a Schnee, Jaune doubted it beyond her.

Her top was an almost formal jacket, with a long coat-tail hanging down almost to her knees and long sleeves that reached her wrists, made of a thick black material that looked like wool but almost certainly wasn't. Not in this weather, at least, it would be ridiculously hot in the normal weather for Vale around this time of year. Six silvery buttons kept the front of the coat closed, shining orange like molten metal with the reflections of the fire glancing off them while the woman ate the protein meal and reached for some of the fresh coffee. Similarly to her pants and greaves, if he could call them that, a pattern of white, swirling Dust laced her forearms like frost spider-webbing across her arms.

"I suppose that is true, Jaune." Goodwitch sighed tiredly, or perhaps frustratedly though she looked far more relaxed than he was used to. A small difference, to be sure, mostly set into how her shoulders rested and her relaxed posture, an ever-present small smile all on her lips. "Still, it would do no harm to try and add some flavor to the blasted things. Winter always argues that point, though."

"Hm?" He looked at her, and she caught the question in the grunt. A talent, he felt, that few around him actually had.

"The ration bars are highly processed, condensed protein packs. Any flavor additives would degrade the amount of nutritional value in them, and thus the idea has been rejected by the Atlesian military." Winter's amused sounding voice called out from the tent, the sound of shifting metal catching his attention and interest. "And I smell coffee already, Glyn. You can't have worked so fast."

"Jaune set it on the fire, Winter." The older blonde answered, taking a sip of it and sighing contentedly, "Gods, the one decision the Headmaster made I like the most was purchasing those Mistralian coffee plantations and placing them under a Beacon production license."

"Beacon Academy owns its own coffee plantations?" Jaune asked, sounding only mildly confused. Why would a Hunter Academy ever have need of something like coffee plantations?

"Extra Lien, and a supply chain upgrade as well." Goodwitch answered simply, drumming her fingers on the side of the mug as she spoke. "The Headmaster enjoys his coffee, and does so in large quantities. Doctor Oobleck does as well and while we don't meet their intakes, both Professor Port and myself partake quite a bit, alongside the rest of the staff. This also gives us something cheap to add to our Expeditionary packs, for hunts like these."

"Hm." He nodded, taking a mug for himself and taking a sip of the hot, rich liquid. It would make sense and be rather useful to have the plantations for supply and Lien both. Caffeine could be useful on missions, as could a hot drink that tasted good enough to at least mildly enjoy. "You would think, then, that Beacon would look into better ration bar formulas."

"Unfortunately, Winter is… Correct in what she says." Goodwitch sighed, finishing hers and tossing the wrapper into the fire, watching the paper and treated aluminium flare up in a bright flash of color before it melted. "Processing in flavoring additives would dilute it too much in its actual tasks, and the Headmaster has not approved any proposals to that end. Which may be for the best, given everything."

"As I always say, Glyn." Winter said simply, almost teasingly, as she stepped out of the tent finally and Jaune turned to examine her chosen heavy combat gear. And a pleasant emphasis on the heavy in that sentence.

Unlike Goodwitch, who favored just enough durability to take a hit but not so much as to slow her at all and instead used her combat gear to accentuate her offensive capabilities through Dust enhancement and mobility. Winter, on the other hand, seemed to fall much more in line with Jaune himself, wearing gear that seemed designed more for outright protection than evasion.

Heavy steel greaves with round pieces protecting the knees and short heels protected her lower half, and light but no doubt strong chainmail on her thighs under the light skirted mail that added protection to the upper parts of her thighs where armor would hinder movement too much to wear. Under that, when he looked closer, he could see the white of her uniform pants as well. Probably a thing meant to add comfortability to the equipment, or perhaps that Atlesian modularity he had heard so much of that insisted everything have a base and simply be able to have more attached or layered atop it.

A heavy leather belt with fine looking silver stitchings held the small armor-skirt, and off the back hung long cloth coattails not unlike Goodwitch's own, though they looked somewhat thicker and more suited to absorbing direct damage. Several leather pouched with Winter's family insignia stitched onto their weathered looking fronts hung off of both hips, probably loaded down with Dust for her to use in combat, the same swirling patterns of Dust augmentation covering the metal and cloth of her armor and adding to its strength and her abilities.

Her upper body was protected by a rounded cuirass-esque design, made of thick looking steel and probably over top of her uniform shirt - thought he doubted she wore the coat as well - judging by the presence of her pants. It was slightly rounded, to deflect claws, blades and bullets away in a way that wouldn't force her body to bear the blow directly or affect her momentum too much to bare. The metal of her chest-plate was inscribed like elsewhere in white swirling patterns that also looked like Dust inscriptions, and looked more than just high quality.

Rounded pauldrons that angled like her cuirass covered her shoulders, and under them he could see the white sleeves of her undershirt between light looking chain, with swirling white Dust inscription adorning it as always. The rest of her arms were covered in light looking and moderately simple plated gauntlets and plated armor with the same elegant inscriptions, one of those gauntlets holding her thin saber and testing the grip absently.

"You always argue it though, which is so like you, Glynda." The woman chuckled, evidently satisfied with the grip of her weapon. Sheathing it, she took a long step towards Jaune too accept an offered mug and ration bar and then joined Goodwitch, adjusting her armor as she did. "Thank you for making the coffee, Jaune. I appreciate the caffeine in the morning more than you might know."

"Hm. Just let me know when we're ready to move on." He grunted, tearing open a ration bar to dig into himself.

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Tracking the trolls was an easy enough job, once they got to the task. Given their prodigious size they tended to blunder and smash their way through underbrush, and left large prints in soft earth as an aside, as well as the occasional crushed limb or fallen tree where the path the creatures - for two of them were together, oddly enough given their typically loner nature as Grimm - had been taking was blocked by too many clustered too close together for them to bother going around. The journey was undertaken in silence as well, aside from the sounds of their armor clinking gently, sticks crunching under them as they went and the occasional whispered commands from Goodwitch or Winter behind him.

It suited Jaune just fine, of course, it meant that he could listen ahead of them as he lead and they followed. He was, according to them both, 'the best of them for taking a proper beating and not dying from it.' Goodwitch had smirked when she said that in that way she tended to do so often, but he chose to take that as a compliment, backhanded and teasing as it may have been.

It wasn't exactly like they were wrong, after all. He did pride himself on being the most durable fighter in the room at any given moment, and if they just ran across them then he'd be the one to get hit instead of either of the others, which was frankly according to his preference.

The duo, when they found them, were huddled low over a tree they had uprooted and dragged into a clearing, the two working together to clear the branches and smooth the trunk into a weapon. They used their claws for both jobs, smoothing the wood with the claws and cutting away branches before finally cracking the oak into two pieces and sitting back to back, working on the massive clubs together.

"A pair of them together, like we feared and the scouts suggested could be the case. And they lost their weapons at some point apparently, too." Winter observed, kneeling between them behind a thick bush. One of the creatures snorted, looking around, then snorted again and set back to its task. "Our scent is already beginning to catch in the wind. We don't have long before they sniff us out."

"Jaune, can you hold off one while we kill the other?" Goodwitch asked, the younger blonde nodding curtly and reaching back with a hand to finger the haft of his axe familiarly. "You don't need to kill it, Jaune. Just stall it for a minute or so, and then we can kill it."

"I'll be fine, Headmistress." He assured her, plucking the axe off his back and nodding. "Are you attacking from elsewhere, or here? It will be hard to stage a distraction if they see us approach together."

"We will allow you to attack first, and simply follow you in." Winter answered, "Our scents will attract their attention before we reach any better positions that we are currently in, unfortunately. Whenever you are ready, Jaune, I want you to rush them and then bolt to the side of one. Which doesn't matter, just one of them."

Nodding, and without another word, he rose and stepped out of the bushes and into the clearing. It took three long steps before they spotted him, snarling and rising, leaving their unfinished clubs behind as they moved to face him and he circled to the left with his shield raised warily. The two creatures, unsure of what he was doing, hesitated for a moment before they split apart and circled to either side of him carefully.

Inside a couple minutes, Jaune was in the center of the clearing between their unfinished wooden weapons and where he'd started, and smiled as they started to lumber towards him from several feet away. One, impatient, roared and made to charge, only to fall as a small, bronze circle sprang to life ahead of it, images like clockwork spiraling to life as its foot landed and then shot out from under it and sent it sprawling.

Its fellow turned at its tumble and Jaune charged, taking two steps and turning, hurling his axe at the creature's chest and burying the blade deep into the flesh just under its throat. It bellowed in surprised pain, and its fellow made to rise as several massive shards of ice the size of Jaune himself flew from the treeline and buried themselves into the creature's lower chest, five massive spears of solid ice buried in it and jutting from the other side as the creature staggered to the side.

The cold, he knew, would hinder its regeneration and let his companions kill it easier. Recalling his axe, he charged his own opponent and rolled under a clumsy fist, claws gouging a trough of soil out behind him as he rolled past it and turned, bringing his axe into the back of its knee and earning a howl. It staggered but didn't fall, and he yanked the axe free and slammed it into the cut again, the Grimm finally staggering and falling to a knee.

Jaune let it fall away, the axe coming free and then slamming down into its upper shoulder, and leapt onto its back, using the axe as a handle to climb it. The creature roared, in defiance or pain he didn't know, but when it swept an arm back at him in an effort to catch him all it got was the rim of his shield driving between two fingers as hard as he could manage.

It snarled and rose, knee healed already, and Jaune grabbed one of its horns in his shield hand while he yanked the axe free and held on for dear life. Raising the axe out to the side, he slammed it into the side of the creature's neck once, then a second time after he lopped off two fingers on a hand that reached for him as the creature staggered around and tried to shake him off. The shape of its chest and back meant, unfortunately for it, that it couldn't reach up with both arms to try and get at him.

So when his axe bit down a third time, the creature wheezed weakly and its head lolled, sinking to its knees as Jaune yanked the blade free and then hacked again. This time, the head came free, and Jaune leapt off as the body collapsed forward, dropping the head and then resting his axe across his shoulders, turning to look at the other as it began to dissolve and the women reached him.

"What next?" He asked simply, the two exchanging glances before either explained.

"A few days' patrolling, making sure no others are around, and then a return home." Winter explained, gesturing past the trees with her sword, "Lead the way, if you will, Jaune. I'll make sure to keep an eye on you."

That sounded ominous, but Miss Goodwitch seemed amused by it, so he let it go before he started trying to figure out women. That way lay madness after all, as he often told himself whenever a woman did something strange.

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Mo Eazy :

Partially my mistake, partially on purpose. He has some modicum of respect for them, so he is a touch more relaxed, but my fault for it slipping a bit too far.

Smokey Panda :

XD

Josh Spicer :

Complexity of a chapter is also a thing with me, I don't like to do anything but put my best into each chapter if I can help it. This chapter is also short, but that's because of the fight scene and the layered conversation. They take a lot of time to write, you see. I'm still not wholly satisfied by the fight, but bah.