"Don't do it Adam," I warned, peering through the slats of my mask and holding a gloved hand out in front of me. I had one knee down on the snow-covered ground, Fang and Claw shrunk-down and slung across my back, heavy with unspent Dust cartridges. Not a few paces away lay an SDC private contractor, his rifle jammed, his winter camo marred by a single streak of blood. Perry backed away behind me, one hand pressed tightly to the wound on her arm—the source of the red on the contractor's fatigues—and glaring with hate in her eyes.

It was a quick operation, Sienna had promised. In and out, little noise, no casualties, but come prepared. That's the only reason it had gotten the green light.

They'd been waiting for us. Three of ours were dead, the SDC's men had been repelled, and now Adam—

Adam stood over the one contractor unlucky enough to be caught away from his comrades, Wilt raised high overhead a backhand grip.

"He deserves it!" Adam hissed, his remaining good eye barely visible through the slats of his Grimm mask. "They all do! All of them!"

"He's not a threat!" I yelled back, getting up from my knee and creeping forward. Adam jerked his head slightly in my direction, and I froze. "Blake!" I yelled at where my sister stood, a few paces away from Adam. "Please, get him to stop!"

"H-he…" Blake stammered, eyes wide. Frozen. She was too young for this, I thought as my heart clenched painfully. She was twelve. "N-Noah, I—"

"Death to the human!" Adam hissed, voice tight. "Death to the SDC!"

Adam brought the blade down, and—

"Gah!" I jerked awake. A moment later I came back to myself, pulling my claws back in from where they popped out and inspecting my bedsheets for damage. Damn it; there, a sizable gash. I'd be fixing that one up myself later today; in the words of Kali Beladonna: "Oh no Ghira, it's not the help's or the guards' fault that you can't keep your claws contained; it's yours, so you get to fix it, and that goes for you too Noah!"

It was always that nightmare this time of the month, I reflected. Every time Blake was due to call, the same dream. The same vision of a decade of failure.

The culmination of all my failures to pull my brother in all but blood off of the slippery slope.

But forewarned doesn't always mean forearmed. Sometimes, it just means you get to watch, important and powerless, as everything falls apart exactly how you knew it would. Sometimes it just means you don't get to do anything but stand there and watch as the gods themselves let you, personally, know that despite all your carefully laid plans, you never had a chance. Not really, anyway.

In the past nearly-four years, I'd almost come to terms with that fact. That didn't make it hurt any less to constantly be reminded of it.

"Noah, sweetie?" Mom called out from behind the door. "Are you awake?"

"We both know you could tell the second I was up, Mom," I said back. The door to my room slid open, and she stepped inside, resplendent in her glory. Life on Menagerie had been mostly kind to her—but I could see the shadows in her gaze, the worry lines on her face. I was the only one in our family that had heard from Blake in the past few years, and even then, it was still just one Scroll call per month.

Her daughter was growing up, and she wasn't there to see it. None of us were.

"The same dream again?" She gracefully ignored my (admittedly snide) statement as she glided into the room, taking a seat on the corner of my bed.

"Of course," I said with a heavy sigh. "I thought I'd been able to get through to him. But the more I think about it, I'm not sure I ever had a chance. He was like a brother to me, and…" I shook my head. "I'm not sure he felt the same way."

A moment passed between us. Mom came over and ran her fingers through my hair a little bit, and I admit I leaned into her touch a fair bit.

"Look at you, seventeen and still constantly wanting more pets," she said. "It's too bad you finally got the purring under control, you were so cute."

"M-mom!" I said and pushed her hand away, affronted.

"Breakfast's downstairs honey, and I set the tea to steep before I came up here." She went to the doorway and paused. "Your father also said to let you know that she called ahead, and will be by to pick you up half an hour earlier than usual. I'm not sure why, but you know how she is."

I frowned. I did indeed know how Sienna Khan was. She and my parents may have been on the outs with each other since the White Fang fell under her leadership and changed, but I still had fond memories of the woman who babysat Blake and me, and who taught us to fight. I know Mom's opinion of her soured four years ago… I mean, I know what she's become—and moreover, I have the perspective and points of comparison to see exactly how much of an extremist she and the rest of the Fang were on track to become.

But it was almost impossible for me to think ill of the woman that I first met as the disgruntled teen who changed my diapers.

"What kind of tea?" I asked Mom, focusing on the truly important questions.

"Darjeeling!" She answered before heading down the steps.

Yes!

Ten-thirty in the morning arrived, and I stood at the docks of Menagerie's Shallow Sea, working up a light sweat in the tropical climate, and the weight of two gunblades hanging from my back wasn't helping matters. That said, I had an hour's journey across the channel to Anima ahead of me, and it was going to be more than a little cold; I'd rather be sweating a little bit now than be freezing and catch a cold later.

I watched the small dot on the horizon grow larger as it approached, eventually resolving itself into the familiar visage of Sienna Khan, piloting a small speedboat to the docks. There was the usual slight furor and clamor as she pulled closer—some in Menagerie deliberately tried to get to the docks on the tenth of every month just for a glimpse at Sienna, and she milked every second of it to recruit and proselytize for the White Fang—but this wasn't the usual eleven o'clock crowd.

We were early today, and I was a bit apprehensive because of it.

"Sienna," I said coolly as she pulled the boat alongside the dock for me to hop on board.

"Noah," she responded. I suppressed the urge to flinch; normally, her tone was warm, but firm. Today, it was stern and tense. Something was wrong, I could feel it in my gut. But first, there was something to get out of the way.

"I don't suppose I could change your mind about rejoining the White Fang?" She asked, but it was clear her heart wasn't in it; she spoke as if it was a trite, rehearsed statement. "A Faunus of your capabilities would always be welcomed back to the Fang with open arms."

"I'm afraid I have to decline," I said, my tone equally as flat and rehearsed. "I'm afraid I disagree too much with the current direction of the White Fang to ever rejoin. Maybe down the line, but as it stands, I must refuse." I smirked. "For the forty-third time. It's good to see you, Sienna," I said, hopping aboard and leaning down to hug the tiger-woman in front of me.

"The feeling is mutual, Noah," she said. "And you know I have to ask."

"Then you'll keep being disappointed," I said.

"You are too much like your father, I swear," she groused, though it was a good-natured thing. "Push us off, will you? We've no time to lose."

I did, and she guided us out of Menagerie's harbor, though not without a longing look at the fish market. A moment later and a kick of the small speedboat's motor, and we were off.

"Why the rush this morning?" I asked after about five minutes, once the waves started getting a bit choppier. At the same time, Sienna and I traded positions; she set up in the main body of the speedboat while I worked rudder and steered. She took the opportunity to reach between the benches and pull out a small bundle, which unfurled with a flick of her wrist into a large bow, with a fishing line attached to the bolt already nocked in it leading back to the speedboat.

Hey, we had to make the trip every month; she may as well try to get an extra something productive out of it, and Sienna was a very accomplished bow-fisher at this point. That said, watching her fumble with different methods and implements on the earliest trips was hilarious. I still remember when she speared a shark and it dragged her into the water.

She was more unhappy about getting drenched than losing the spear. Cats, am I right?

"A possible complication," she said. "You know your sister's monthly reports?"

"I hope the question's rhetorical," I yelled over the motor and the waves.

"Pull up on the throttle a little bit," she ordered, drawing back on the bowstring and taking aim. "And you know what I meant Noah, don't play as dumb as your father sometimes acts."

I bristled at the accusation, but did as she asked. Silence persisted for about three minutes as she scanned the waters and lined up her shot, and then in a flash, Sienna fired the bow. The arrow sunk beneath the waves, before something jerked the line—and the speedboat.

"Gun it." I complied, and as the boat began to move, Sienna methodically tugged the line back in, one length at a time. "There've been disparities between the digests you give from your sister's calls and what my men tell me."

"Are you accusing Blake of something?" I said, my hackles rising. I wasn't about to start anything though, and we both knew it; good as I'd become with both Fang and Claw and my bare hands, Sienna could still take me with one hand tied behind her back and blindfolded. I could try as hard as I like, but I wasn't anywhere near besting the woman who'd taught me just about everything I knew about fighting.

"I would very much rather that be the case," Sienna answered, with total sincerity in her voice. The honesty of her answer caught me off guard, and brought me up short in more ways than one. "Why did you stop the throttle?"

"Sorry," I murmured, gunning the engine again. "So you're worried that somebody in the Vale chapter is lying."

"Yes," Sienna said bluntly. "And I would much rather it just be that your sister is sugarcoating things to keep you from worrying—pull up!"

I did as she asked. With a whip, a heave, and a final tug on the fishing line, Sienna pulled her catch out from beneath the waves. A huge tuna burst forth from beneath the ocean waters.

"Now!"

I leapt out of the boat and towards the fish, grabbing hold of its tail in my right hand. Then with my left, I pulled Fang off the magnetic bar holding it to my back and fired a Dust cartridge, using its recoil to throw me and the tuna back to the boat. I landed hard with one foot in the well and one on the bench, and Sienna grabbed the two tails on the back of my jacket to bring my momentum to a dead halt.

"Big fish," I remarked, then bashed the tuna's head with the flat of Fang until it finally stopped moving; better to not cut up the meat.

"Indeed," she said. "Though we'll have to wait until you're back in Menagerie to butcher it."

"I'm guessing there's a reason you're not just going to do it while I call Blake this time?"

"I need to listen to your call this time," she revealed. "And I want you to listen in on mine with my lieutenant. I'd rather have some confirmation that I'm not just being paranoid."

I wanted to disagree. Sienna may have known Blake and me all our lives… but these conversations were private. That said, if she was right, and somebody was selectively hiding information from her, then her concerns about having a second set of ears—well, third in her case—was valid.

"Okay," I said. "I don't like it, but I understand your reasons."

"Thank you, Noah," she said. "Truly."

"Don't thank me yet," I said with a grimace, and gunned the throttle. What Sienna had revealed opened up a gnawing pit of worry deep in my gut. I don't want to believe that Blake had been lying to me.

But at the same time, the rational part of my mind told me that it would be better if she was, because the alternative was infinitely worse.

And deep down, I already knew who was telling the truth here. I just didn't want to see it. Not yet.

Once we got to shore, Sienna tied the speedboat onto the ramshackle dock the White Fang had made a few years back, several miles down the coast from the nearest major, human settlement. We were perfectly in range of the CCTS from right here, and I don't think either of us wanted to delay the conversation we knew we needed to have with our people. With that in mind, I pulled out my Scroll and reset it, letting it pick up the world-wide CCT signal instead of just Menagerie's isle-wide network. The instant my Scroll connected, a barrage of notifications came in: e-mails, text messages, missed calls, all from the past six days, and all with the same address: Blake Belladonna.

My heart sunk. Something had happened, and I wasn't there for her.

I clicked over to open my Scroll's voice and video call application, but right as I did so, an incoming video call took over the screen. It was from Blake.

I picked up immediately.

"—ot time yet but please somehow pick u—"

"Blake!" I yelled into the Scroll. On the other end, Blake shrieked and dropped her Scroll. Had the situation been different, I may have done my brotherly duty and poked fun at her a tiny bit for the sudden reaction, but the sheer quantity of missed calls and messages had me thinking that would have been not just a bad idea, but in poor, poor taste.

"N-Noah, oh thank the gods you're finally—I, I mean i-it's good to see you!" Blake visibly tried to compose herself on the other end, but I could clearly see it was a wasted effort. Frankly, she looked terrible. Her ears were twitching back and forth on a swivel, as though she was trying to keep something from sneaking up on her. She had massive bags under her eyes, and her usual eyeliner and eye shadow was nowhere in sight. Normally I'd be happy that my little sister wasn't prettying herself up, but something told me the reasons for that had less to do with coming to her damn senses and more to do with why she looked like the bogeyman was about to jump out from under her bed.

"... Blake, answer me honestly," I said, and I could see her gulp on the other end. "Are you okay?"

"... n-no," she said. "I, I'm n-not, a-and I, I…" she trailed off.

"Take your time," I said. I made a small gesture to Sienna, and she pulled out her own Scroll, opening up its recording app and starting it up.

"... you're gonna hate me," Blake said. "Y-you're gonna be angry, and disappointed, a-and—"

"Blake," I interrupted her. "I promise, nothing you could possibly say would ever make me—"

"I killed somebody!" She yelled. On the other end of the video call, she started crying, her shoulders shaking and hiccuping as the tears came. "I… I killed s-someone, Noah."

"... oh," I said, my heart plummeting. "Oh, Blake…"

"I, I didn't have a choice!" She said, her voice plaintive. "She was aiming a gun at me, a-and my Aura was almost empty… a-and it all happened so fast, I just pulled the trigger, and she—h-her blood it just—oh gods, I, I—"

"Blake," I said, voice stern but firm. She paused, her sobs quieting a bit. "Listen to me. If your Aura was going to break, then it was in self-defense. You did nothing wrong," I told her. A voice in the back of my head scolded me for lying to my sister; it was in self-defense, but only in that either she had to shoot or die herself. She shouldn't have even been in a situation where she could have been hurt, let alone killed, and if I ever got my hands, or gods forbid my claws on Adam again…

"... do you really mean that?" Blake asked, her ears drooping low in what I think was shame.

"Blake, nothing you ever did could make me stop loving you," I answered honestly. It was sappy, but I think that in this moment, she needed some reassurance. "Just answer me this: if there had been any other way in that instant, any at all, would you still have killed her?"

"No!" Blake answered immediately. "Gods, no, if there had been anything else I… I wish there had been something else." She got quiet at the end. "I never wanted to hurt anybody. I just… I just want us Faunus to not have to fight for what humans just get. A-and Adam said the same thing you did, really, but… but I, I needed to hear it from you."

"I know Blake," I said. "I get it. Just… I know you're not going to like this suggestion, but I want you to remember how this feels."

"W-what do you mean, Noah?"

"I want you to remember how you felt when you killed someone. How horrible it was. How much it's torn you up. Whenever you're in a position where you might have to kill somebody, I want you to remember how you feel right now and ask yourself: 'is there any other way?'"

Blake looked pensive for a moment, and then she sighed.

"I wish you'd come with us, Noah. I miss you. But something like this… this is why you left the Fang, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said. "That's exactly why I left. I just… wish you hadn't had to find out for yourself, and not this way either." I paused for a moment, collecting myself. "I miss you Blake," I said. "And I really wish I could actually just be there for you, especially right now. It's just that… I just—"

"I know," she said. "I… yeah. I think, now more than I ever have before, I understand why. I love you, Noah. Tell Mom and Dad I love them too."

"I love you too, Blake. And of course I'll let them know."

Blake gave me a tired smile and ended the call.

"I was aware that Belladonna had seen some live fire, but not to this extent," Sienna said, shutting off the recording app on her Scroll. "And from what she said, things seem to be escalating… which I should have heard."

"Frankly, I don't think I like what you're implying," I said.

"If you think I'm implying that the Vale chapter of the Fang might be going rogue, then no, I don't either." Sienna pulled up her Scroll's contacts and picked an entry seemingly at random. It dialed for two rings before the person on the other end picked up.

"Lady Khan," he said.

"Gorm," Sienna greeted. "How has Vale been treating the White Fang this week."

"Unremarkable," he said. "Boring even. We ambushed an SDC convoy, no casualties on either side, and managed to replenish our operating costs and supplies of Dust for the next month. Seventeen new recruits, four with unlocked Auras, but only two of them have any training. Tukson's network is saying that anti-Faunus policies are decreasing among small businesses, but that large chains with franchises in Vale are barring Faunus from the premises. High Ruler, do you have any suggestion on how to proceed?"

"If it's only the large chains, then targeting their suppliers has potential, so long as you scout them out beforehand and make sure the local businesses aren't affected by the strike. If we show that pro-Faunus local businesses prosper while anti-Faunus chains suffer, then the bean counters will change their tune on their Faunus policy, if only for the sake of their profit margins."

"But how will that improve Faunus rights?" Sienna's lieutenant—Gorm—asked.

"It won't in the short term," she admitted. "But in the long term, as long as casualties are kept to the bare minimum, people will forget why the Faunus policies were changed and come to accept it as the new normal." Sienna's tone softened. "We're not going to be able to change peoples' opinions overnight, Gorm. People who hate Faunus now aren't going to change just because they see more Faunus at the places they frequent. But once people accept that the mingling of human and Faunus is normal, they'll start to ask about the places that do prohibit it."

"... I see." There was a pause on the other end. "I do not have anything else to report at this time."

"And just to confirm," Sienna asked. "What is the total casualty count since we spoke last week?"

"None, Lady Khan. The past week was bloodless."

"I see. Until next week, Gorm."

"High Ruler."

She ended the call, and the two of us shared a glance.

"We both know who was telling the truth here," she said. "A reaction like Blake's isn't something that you can just fake."

"Which means that your lieutenant—somebody you have trusted beyond reproach for how long now, exactly?" I asked.

"Gorm joined only a month before you and Adam did your father's White Fang, but is originally from Vacuo," Sienna said.

"And now, he's lying to your face." I tried to hide how much that statement worried me, but there was no masking the dismay I was feeling at the moment. And from the way Sienna was shaking, her teeth bared and ears pinned flat against her head, there was no mistaking the disappointment, fury, and sheer sense of betrayal.

"I do not know when, and I do not know to what extent," she bit out through gritted teeth, "but it would seem the Vale chapter of the White Fang has started to go rogue."

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"First, you let me finish contacting the other chapters," Sienna said, preparing to walk away. "I need to put them on alert to determine how much of the Fang has gotten away from me. And then, I need to get somebody in Vale, and in a manner that won't arouse suspicion. Somebody I trust beyond reproach, even more than my lieutenants in the Fang. Somebody who won't hesitate to tell me the raw truth or disagree with me, somebody like Ghira, or…"

Sienna trailed off, then looked at me. Her eyes flicked to where my twin gunblades, Fang and Claw, hung on my back.

Uh-oh. I have a bad feeling about this.

"Tell me, Noah Belladonna."

Sienna Khan stalked towards me, looking every inch the tiger whose ears crowned her head, whose tattooed stripes adorned her arms. In that instant, she was the huntress of the savannah, and it took every inch of mettle to not back down, even before a woman a full head shorter than I was.

"Have you ever considered becoming a huntsman?"