Chapter 1: Cat in the Cradle

"Nearly there, be sure not to fall behind."

It annoyed her how sordid the man walking just seven steps ahead of her could be.

It annoyed her even more than after all this time she still wasn't all that used to it – wasn't continuous exposure to something supposed to desensitize you from it? Perhaps it wasn't that easy; some people couldn't handle certain things well, no matter how often they were exposed to it. The very essence of fear; to want to be away from something that unsettled you in such a way that your mind and body couldn't fully comprehend it.

Maybe this was fear. It's an emotion she would've preferred.

Instead, she was caught in this twisted wet towel of complicated emotions. Respect, realization, sadness and regret all being wrangled together so tightly it became difficult to deduce which one she was feeling the most of.

And if that wasn't bad enough already, she wasn't even certain on which feeling was worse.

"You're quiet today Blake." His deep voice had always provided some form of comfort. The purpose in his stride and strength in his baritone instilled a kind of confidence in her – assured that so long as she followed his lead, no harm would ever come to her.

How wrong she had been.

"I'm quiet all the time Adam," was Blake's response, idly brushing the straying strands of black away from her field of vision. Naturally long hair was sometimes more of an encumbrance than a blessing, "What makes you think today is any different?"

Adam's counter was sharp and sudden, not unlike that blade firmly strapped to his side. "What I think doesn't matter. Your silence works in our favor anyway. So long as your head is in the right place for this mission, your personal strife is not my immediate concern."

It was never your immediate concern.

Blake didn't know why she hadn't said it, it was definitely the perfect opportunity. Throughout her life, she'd had many chances to say those words. Time and time again the ideal chance to throw in his face all the supposed 'anger and strife' he accused her of harboring.

Well… he wasn't incorrect. And maybe that's why she never retaliated.

She felt her feline ears brush against the silky fabric of her bow – a natural response to the hundreds of sounds rebounding off each and every leaf in this scarlet forest. There was hardly any wind today, the air only ever moving just enough to rustle the leaves of the towering trees. Her amber eyes roamed the base of the canopy, it giving way to only the most miniscule beams of light cast on all things beneath them.

Even with the bow somewhat hampering her sense of hearing she could still methodically pick out all the sounds of nature at a higher degree than most. The faint chirps of early morning grasshoppers, all of which bounded among the dew-slicked grass. The crunchy wetness of said grass was like crumbling bread to her, snapping and falling apart as she lightly trampled over it. Very few animals out right now, with only the occasional chipper squirrel and chattering swallow… and even fewer creatures of Grimm; she hadn't seen nor sensed a single one since they arrived.

Had she not felt so foul in the pit of her stomach, she would have spared the mental power to label it a beautiful scene. But that was not what she was sent out here to do… not by a long shot. Give her a choice, she'd stay in this Grimm invested jungle for eternity…

It was much better than what she was about to force herself to do.

"Forgive me if I don't yearn for any of your kind of concern," Blake kept her voice level, though that did nothing to lessen the bite in her words, "It'd be much easier to confess my heart to a brick wall."

Unsurprisingly, the man chuckled. Predictable. Never thought that'd be a word she'd ever associate with a sealed vault like Adam. He always seemed to have no flaws. A perfect fighter, intelligent, resourceful, commanding… qualities that created a man who could not be fooled, forced, or manipulated.

But when it came to matters of the soul, he was better off not having one. The girl couldn't deny that it felt a bit wrong to think that way.

"I have my weaknesses, as do we all," Was it nap time? Because Adam's unbearably emotionless tone was making Blake more tired than she was already, "Thankfully, mine do not impede on the will of our brotherhood. You on the other hand could stand to adjust your mindset."

"And that means?" Blake fired out a bit faster than she'd hoped. Sometimes the anger just fell out regardless of how hard she tried to reign it in.

"Were you not paying attention?" Adam's body whipped around faster than she could take her next step, the girl looked up into his masked visage defiantly as he finished up his statement, "Keep your head on the mission, as it is all for the good of faunus worldwide. Remember that it justifies every single one of our actions."

Justifies? How very holier-than-thou.

"I don't know if I can ever believe that," Blake shook her head, speaking not so much to Adam as she was the toes of her boots.

"In your case, you don't have to," Adam shrugged a single shoulder, "Our leaders know the best course of action, and we will follow orders accordingly. So do us a favor and think of your people for once. Lest you make another idiotic mistake."

And with that, he turned back on his heel – Blake simply staring at him for a few seconds afore trailing behind him again, if only a slightly further distance than before. She swallowed a sigh, hating the pocket of air that exploded in her throat. But she didn't care. She just wanted this all to be over so she could shut herself away from her mentor once again.

She was sad to admit she'd been doing so rather frequently as of late.

She used to think there'd been some kind of connection between them, a mutual respect for each other's standing. Not simply because they were both faunus, but also because of the dream that he and she shared. The collective aspiration that had brought so many others to the cause – at the time, she'd thought it was magnificent.

The truth, however, quite frankly hurt.

Again, the faunus girl found comfort in nature. The rigid yet smooth tree bark, stretching up like the pristine godly columns that held up the heavenly paradise, clusters of leaves representing the gold and silver clouds so strong that even a Goliath could walk on them. Adorable, innocent animals of basic instinct living their lives as well as they could manage. Lucky pricks, they didn't have any manner of stresses in their lives.

What a cruel fate to be nailed smack dab in-between the genus of animals and humans. Awarded with the abilities of a specific animal as well as complete night vision.. with the only drawbacks being that a majority of every human on the continent thought her kind was undeserving of a thing known as equal rights. Even after the ever famous, Faunus Rights Revolution.

Oh yeah, not to mention being a part of a globally despised terrorist organization that had taken to bombing important locations and assassinating influential individuals in the past few years.

Still, Blake couldn't find herself angry at those facts. Once upon a time she had been, and that had taken her to a place she never thought she'd be freed of. But now as those words replayed over and over again, she was more accepting of them. Well, maybe not so much accepting – wouldn't make much sense for a fellow faunus to be completely apathetic toward their own kind's suffering.

She wished there was someone here she could share that with. But if Adam was her destined companion, then her two weeks were going in promptly.

'Are you sure that's how you want to live?'

The words of another rang in her brain; a distant memory she recalled. Blake's already somber gaze practically drilling holes into the ground as the bright, soothing voice even seemed to echo throughout her very bones.

No, it wasn't how she wanted to live. It never was.

But what could be done? She'd been in this since the beginning, it was what she knew, what she grew up being taught. This was a world all too familiar, and as crazy as it sounded, it carried an eternal torch in her heart that burned with the desire to defend it. To defend and protect the brotherhood she spent so many years working with…

'For. You're working for them Blake. Not with them.'

A long time ago, she might not have believed him, she'd have called him nothing but a two-faced liar who sided with the most evil creatures in this world: humans. But she had clear sights now… and what she saw through that looking glass was far more perturbing that she wanted to believe.

She missed him. Terribly.

But it couldn't be helped. This was her lifestyle, this was who she was. All she could ever be. Making a change wouldn't matter. In the eyes of the wronged, she was still a damned sinner. Forever doomed to the abysmal pits of hellfire, where the endless burning of her flesh was her righteous and deserved punishment.

'It's not too late.'

He could afford to believe that, though. It would be harder for her in the long run. And yet her heart squeezed itself, pushing her to stop momentarily to take in her latest string of thoughts.

Am I to continue living this life that I loathe? All to accomplish a dream that had once been noble, but now lies in a place of hatred?

She looked at her hand, slowly opening it and coiling again while the deep look of concentration drowned out everything else around her.

Or can I change that? Can I finally find a way to escape this hell and make a place where happiness can be real?

Just as she had firmly locked one fist, the sound of Adam's sword-like voice brought her attention back on him. The man stood readily, detaching his sheath from his side and gripping it tightly in one hand.

"Here it comes."

Straight to the point as always, and Blake at the very least glad she'd stayed on page long enough to know to instantly prepare for action. Unlatching her charcoal-black steel weapons off her back, she held the thick rectangular blade in a single hand before lowering herself into a semi-running stance.

Her ears picked up on a sound… a familiar one.

The sound of… heavily rumbling metal. A vehicle, a large one at that - skating sloppily along oxidized tracks worn down by time and providing a very audible screech that could have been heard even by a human from this distance.

This mission, this is when I'll decide.

"Let's move!" Adam ordered immediately, Blake matching pace with him as they zoomed through the red forestry faster than the untrained eye could catch. Yet at the same time, her steps were light and calm, giving away no form of noise other than the crush of the grass beneath her feet.

Whether I love my people more… or myself.

~Between the Lines~

Adam's sword slid firmly back into its scabbard.

Blake let out a minute sigh, calming the flux of aura in her body from the exertion of the battle. Not a difficult little skirmish per se – they were only dealing with the security robots after all. It was almost insulting, really; the White Fang had been targeting these shipments for years now. One would think that the executives bearing that well-known snowflake emblem would take better precautions against further attacks.

Or perhaps, they had so much more merchandise in production that these thieveries were nothing but minor nuances.

That was either good or bad depending on one's perspective.

The rumble of the train did nothing to unsettle her steady pace as she followed after Adam. And this train didn't exactly rock like an infant's cradle either; it was rickety, old, and frankly, dispensable. It was hard to believe it was still being used despite being so out of date; it'd be much easier, and probably safer to transport shipments through airships or sea freighters. Maybe it was more expensive, but the reward surely outran the risk, didn't it?

Funny… the richest, most powerful company in the world was still finding ways to be cheap. Or as they most likely labelled it, being economical.

The train roof door was freed from its shackle - courtesy of Adam's sword - and swung wide open. Adam was the first to leap through it, Blake following shortly after hearing his dress shoes clank on the solid metal floor.

Here it was.

Crates upon crates. Pure, hardened steel frames melded so tightly together that not even air could escape from them. Each one looked exactly the same – no difference in the slightest, but the sheer presence of all of this product in a single place was… intimidating, to say the least. They sat about them on all sides, stacked upon and around each other in perfect order. Done so specifically to keep what was being held inside stable; no one would want to transport potentially volatile dust. The faunus girl began to see why the trains were still being used…

Flat, even pathways cleared through the forest, a perfect road made for the tracks to guide along the train without any form of obstruction. Giving way to the ideal form of transport that guaranteed no kind of natural obstacle or malfunction. At least in comparison to a Bullhead – a single malfunction on an airship carting dust could lead to nothing but pure destruction.

But then, so could this, right?

"Perfect," spoke her partner, Blake only now noticing that he had opened one of the crates. She didn't miss the faint smirk creeping along his jaw upon seeing the no doubt satisfying elements inside. That smirk sharply faded… replaced by yet another poignant order, "Move up to the next car. Once I set the charges, this whole train will be going under."

Blake felt her heart lurch in her chest, threatening to jerk out of her breast as though preemptively trying to escape and run away before it could get stabbed through by regret. It beat so heavily that she wasn't sure what to say or do. For what seemed like the millionth time this day, her gaze fell to the floor as she rummaged through the files in her office of a brain, praying that she could find some sort of answer there.

She didn't.

"And… and what about the crew members? The people who are still on this train?" She implored the man, looking up at him with a mixture of anger… and desperation. Please Adam, have a heart! There was no reason to go through with this mission. Not like this. If all they needed to do was destroy the cargo, then at the very least they could allow the people on it to be spared. She hated the fact that she was willing to beg; she had a great deal of pride in herself, thanks to certain someone...

But what was of greater importance to her were the lives of the passengers. What fault was theirs in this? They weren't doing anything other than their jobs. They didn't deserve this kind of ending, even if they were human, so who was Adam to sentence them to an early demise?

A puff of air escaped her nostrils, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"What about them?" Adam waved his hand passively, another light smirk spreading above his chiseled chin.

…

She wished it was a lie. A dream, even. But the bow-bearing beauty could no longer deny the truth to herself. For so long she tried to pretend it wasn't real – to hold on hope that her mentor had not stooped to this kind of low. She wanted to believe that her cause was still worth it, that all the years she spent growing up amongst her brothers and sisters actually meant something in this awfully morbid world.

Those simple three words, and the blatant apathy behind them, was more than enough of a hint now.

This was it… this was as far as she could go.

How she could tell her superior faunus, she did not know. She was anxious enough already, she didn't want to have to anticipate what he might say or do to her the moment she walked away.

Maybe her lopped off head would be her saving grace.

She had something to live for though, didn't she? Even if it may be end of this journey, who was to say that it was completely over for her? There was so much more in life that she wanted to accomplish, to experience! She dared not accept death when she wasn't even close to reaching the prime of her life.

Even if Adam and the White Fang could no longer be a part of her life… she had to accept that. No longer would she be surrounded by years of familiarity, now to thrust herself into a chaotic world where the twitching of her bow could have her ostracized in public. A world where she'd be all alone.

No… not completely.

There was still one person; one person in her life that she could go to. A person that would not force her into committing terrible acts, and would accept her heritage.

Her friend.

Her mind was made up, and the end was nigh. Taking a brave inhalation of precious oxygen, Blake readied to release the ties that had once bound her to the life of a terrorist.

"Adam—"

Her body rocked as the crash and echo of a heavy slam on the floor forced her words back into her throat. In front of her, Adam whipped his head around to face the progenitor of the rumble, Blake locking onto it a millisecond later.

A Spider Droid.

Shit.

Adam seemed ready at least; drawing his sword post-haste as the thick, rectangular cannons ejected from the pauldrons of the war machine. Its red and black frame seemed to hum a low tune, particles of a white-blue hue pulsating in the barrels. The charge became higher and higher in frequency…

And Blake was on the move before it could fire.

As Adam skid to the right, Black leapt over him and began a swift bee-line toward their new adversary. The blasts of concentrated energy crashed against the walls and floor; the girl seething as the singing heat from the passing beams was enough to scorch her skin – probably a good idea to not get hit by one of those.

With a mighty leap that closed the distance between her and the target, the faunus raised the cleaver half of her weapon above her head, aiming straight for the head of the mechanical monster. What she didn't expect was for the machine to buck at her, not only negating her blow, but heavily slamming against her body. The world blurred around her as she plummeted to the floor, awarded with a painful headache as her skull met steel.

"Damn it… " Her teeth clenched together as she began to push herself onto her feet, dreading the clank of the arachnid's appendages as it closed in on her.

She wouldn't call it saving exactly, but nevertheless, Adam did keep the machine back with well-timed slashes to its hard exterior. This did seem to stun it, but Blake couldn't spot any significant damage. Mere scratches at best.

The swordsman landed protectively beside her… sent flying by the hard flick of one of the Spider Droid's legs a second later.

Blake had just about gotten back onto her feet, slinging up her prized tool as she took notice of the leg now bearing down onto her. In a swift motion, she found herself snatched into the arms of her partner, letting her back onto her feet once they were a fair distance away. For a second she thought to express her gratitude; corrupt or no, he did save her life still.

"You alright?"

It was odd for Blake, hearing those kind of words. And while his expression remained consistently impassive, she couldn't call that genuine concern in his voice a lie. His masked eyes still roaming the advancing arachnid as he shook his head, "I remember teaching you to keep your wits about you during a battle, Blake."

Yeah… she remembered that, too. Back when no barriers had been formed… when the dream of peace between humans and faunus was still real. When the man who held her in his arms was a hero, not a killer. If anything, all this meant was that her decision was correct. The only problem now was how to go about it.

Her ears followed the sound of metal shifting along metal, turning her sights back to the Spider Droid that now bore a single, huge cannon jetting from the front.

Swirling energy formed in its shaft; within seconds, a wide column of reverberating white energy rocketed toward them at breakneck speeds.

At the very least, Blake was able to coat herself in her aura.

The crash of her back through the solid wall was painful enough, but she was at least thankful that she hadn't suffered any bad burns from the impact of the blast. Adam had drawn his sword just in front of them, mitigating the damage to them by absorbing a portion of the impact.

One potent reason why Adam's sword, the Wilt, was so dangerous.

Her body skidded on the roof of the moving train, Blake grinding herself to a halt before she could fall off the edge. Hearing the approach of the war machine, she hastily got to her feet in preparation for what she hoped was the end of this fight.

"Buy me some time!" Adam called out to her, sheathing his sword into its scabbard as the sigils on his clothing and mask began to glow a brilliant red.

"Are you sure?" She said back, but if nothing else, the answer was obvious.

"Do it!"

Now pushing herself even faster, Blake's cold sprint avoided the continuous blasts from the machine's normalized cannons. The blasts were of no effect, her speed far too great to be hit by such mediocre attacks.

Once an opening had been reached, she tightened her legs and leapt toward the machine faster than it could register, almost as if she'd teleported. Her weapon instantaneously transforming into that of a gun-like chain sickle, she hooked the blade into the Spider Droid's neck, letting the speed of her jump cart her higher into the air.

With a hard tug, followed by the recoiling shot from her hooked gun blade, the weapon came free, spinning back toward her. As she let it pass by, she violently rotated her body, allowing the descent of her fall to speed her up. Combined with the whirling of her chain scythe, repeated slashes connected with the hide of the machine, tearing larger marks into its bulk than she expected.

A proud grin adorned her lips as she stuck a premier landing - her assault had yet to come to an end.

She yanked the sickle back toward her, catching it in her right hand and re-shifting it to its black katana style while dashing at her foe's legs. She laid out a speedy combination, easily avoiding the close range shots that it managed to pull off. Each blow counted, unsettling the Droid more and more due to its inability to eliminate her.

Then with another powerful leap, she stabbed her sword straight up the Droid's head, wrenching it hard in its crackling interior while at the same time firing a chain of bullets into its neck. Upon seeing that it was about ready to counterattack, she kicked off of its front and soared through the air, nailing several back-handsprings before stopping just beside her partner.

The man now fully prepared to unleash hell.

Was this… her chance?

Looking behind her, she took note of the latch that combined the two cars on this side. She supposed this meant this was the near front of the locomotive, since this was where the cargo storage came to an abrupt end.

Looking back, she took in Adam's form… his strong back, scarlet hair coursing through the push of the wind alongside his jet black suit. She fondly recalled all the times he'd had her back, helped her, taught her – they were simpler times back then.

But things weren't so black and white anymore. She got older, as did he. They'd both changed drastically.

But the changes had been too much, too much for Blake.

Even those who were once close could drift apart. A sad, but fitting truth in this case.

"Move!"

She complied fully, running and leaping onto the opposing train car and watching as the Spider Droid's energy beam was absorbed into Adam's sword. Then, as the demonic machine leapt at him, he unleashed his signature slash, motioning the arc of the half-moon in one full motion.

The Spider Droid was no more, forever discarded to the wind as nothing but a bushel of bloody red roses.

Adam approached her then, but already too late as he broke into a run that was immediately cut short as he reached the edge of the train car.

Silence. Naught but he rumbling of the train between the melancholic staredown between what Blake believed to be, once good friends. Adam's expression was empty, as always. Maybe for a second, there was a slight of his mouth, perhaps surprise? Hurt? But Blake found herself rather shocked to see the only gesture that contradicted his otherwise heartless attitude.

A single hand, reaching toward her…

Longingly.

But she'd made up her mind. There was no going back just for a single gesture which no longer held more than a moment's worth of emotion. She had to do this, for herself, so that she could make a peaceful life the right way. She never wanted to walk this path of crime and hatred; she would not live like that.

And that was why it was time to say…

"Goodbye."

Before she even knew what she was doing, she slashed the connection between the two cars. Refusing to allow her tears to fall as the visage of her mentor slowly grew further and further away. The speed of her ride hadn't slowed in the slightest, her hair swinging wildly in front of her as her still body stood against the pushing air. Her attention remained forward, almost unblinking as once again she tuned out the world around her.

Five minutes… ten minutes… twenty...

Long after Adam's side of the train had gone, Blake had yet to move. Her mind was still, yet at the same time fluctuating wildly. The prospect of what she'd done; the agonizing feeling of becoming traitorous scum in the eyes of her brothers and sisters. All of those that she'd grown up knowing, fought alongside, protected and was protected by… all down the drain.

But of course the real deciding blow…

Was the loss of someone she'd once trusted with all her heart.

And it was only after she realized this… that Blake Belladonna fell to her knees.

Hoping that her tears would cease before nightfall.

~Between the Lines~

A single yawn.

Jaune Arc's free hand went in front of his widened mouth as if hoping to catch the tired air escaping from his throat. His other hand carried a plain, faded white mug—one he arduously defended against relentlessly brutal sisters as a choice of classical taste"Said mug filled with a piping chestnut colored mixture of hot chocolate, expertly graced with the spread of whipped cream and a tiny, but entirely necessary cherry.

Ah yes, nothing better than half a pint of unnatural sugars to help a man get back to sleep.

Long nights like this really sucked. Nowadays, finding any sort of suitable sleep was next to impossible for him – not because he didn't have the time, but because he wasn't making the time. Honestly he was beginning to wonder if all this intense, last minute training was really worth the strain.

The boy sighed lowly, "No one said trying to become a Huntsman would be easy… "

In reality, he wished he'd gotten started much earlier in his life, back when he still had more time to prepare. But he was seventeen now, which was the minimum age that students were admitted. Yes, he could wait another year or two and put himself through a greater degree of training. But he wished to start this year, when he was still ripe. He couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would be to start his training halfway into his thirties.

A shudder. There would be no girlfriends on that road.

But it was his dream, so no matter what, he'd pursue it. Yeah he might not be all that good right now, but he could guarantee that in time he would become someone great! Give him the opportunity and means, and he'd train until the cows came home!

Figuratively anyway. No live action cows, thank you very much!

He had a hard day of training today, just as he did yesterday, and the day before that, so on and so forth. The same was to be expected tomorrow, nothing but complete and total dedication to his training. It would all be worth it in the end, it really would. He'd become a prestigious Huntsman, make his father and forefathers weep with pride, and finally free himself of this loser label that he'd so easily strapped to himself.

A passionate fist was balled up in front of him, shaking wildly as he envisioned his days of grandeur. Emotional tears leaking from his sealed eyes at the prospect of epic battles, beautiful warrior women, and the stories he would pass onto his children when he was a legendary, yet retired old man.

It would all be realized, just not tonight.

So why not focus on actually trying to get some sleep? It was cold in this huge house and he was all alone. His father and sisters were all in Mistral with some relatives for a while, and his mother was, as always, working.

He might have thrown a house party; but that required friends. And boy weren't those low in stock these days?

Sigh...

Oh well. Stresses for another day, right now it was 2:02 in the morning, and he was slowly drifting into a siesta as he and his comfy blue onesie coursed up the stairs and toward his room. The matching bunny slippers slid against the wood with lively scraping noises, contrasting the sluggish motions of an increasingly sleepy Jaune.

And here was the door.

Opening it right away, he passed through the threshold and allowed himself to breath in the fresh, cool air…

That smelled an awful lot like the outdoors surrounding the Arc Manor.

Eyes motioning toward his only window, Jaune quickly dashed over to it, surprised at the fact that the window was wide open. The gentle air made his thin curtains dance with each breeze, and while he did admit that the natural chill felt nice, there was still a nagging question at the fore of his mind

He hadn't left the window open – he may be called a doofus at times, but even he knew how dangerous that could be. Not like he lived in a bad neighborhood, but it was better to be safe than suffocated to death through means of a pillow and a person with a vendetta.

So how in the world did his window end up like this?

Did someone… sneak in?

Jaune tensed immediately, feeling the goosebumps travel up his arms and spine as he slowly turned around and placed his hot chocolate on the nearby desk.

Stay calm, precious ambrosia, Jaune'll keep you safe!

The blonde's steps were slow, but sure. Looking antsy as he gazed about his room for any potential home invaders, he couldn't help but wonder what would he do if he found him? Was it even a him? Was it even just one!?

Oh god, what a time to leave my sword by the fireplace!

Quickly, he grabbed the door of his only closet, swinging it wide open and flicking on the light inside.

Nothing. Just his mess of a pile of clothing. He really needed to get that organized. Not like he ever would, considering how lazy he was, but it was food for thought… that counted for something, right?

Laziness: 1, Responsibilities: -15.

"Okay… " He whispered warily, reaching into his closet for the wooden bat leaning against the wall. He might suck at sports, but everyone could at leaat grasp the idea of how to hit a home run. On someone's head.

He whipped around swiftly, holding the bat up in his practiced sword stance. His eyes shifted all over his room as the light from the closet illuminated all. There was nowhere else in this small room for any intruders to hide, except for under his bed. But if they were there, he'd certainly see them with the auspicious aid of that glorious light bulb.

However...

The intruder wasn't hiding under the bed. That much was obvious now. Hell, the person had the sheer audacity to take a nice spot on his beautiful bed, snatching up all his precious space. Something he might've been angry about – had it not been for the fact that at the very least one of his panicked suspicions had been correct.

It wasn't a man that snuck into his house.

Jaune placed the bat back in the closet, shutting off the light and closing the closet doors quietly before approaching the person who slept soundly and without a care. Her dark clothing was only somewhat visible underneath the conflicting snowy color of the comforter, bare feet peeking out from just under them. Kneeling down in front of her, he smiled wider than he had in a long time. His cerulean orbs took in her features, reminders of how different she looked… and how familiar she remained. The knight stifled a chuckle as her nose wrinkled from the strands of dark hair that tickled it.

His beam widened even more as he noticed her flicking cat ears, the ever-present bow he knew she'd always wear even to bed currently nowhere to be found.

"Heya… Blake."

Geez, the nostalgia.

If you asked me why I took this down, I don't think I could tell you. A lack of confidence maybe, or perhaps burnout - whatever the case, I look back on it now and wonder what convinced to believe deleting it was the right move?

Ah whatever! Details!

I'm just going to welcome BTL back to the fandom!

After a thousand or so years my friend, ThePhantomScribe and I got back to working on this and decided to re-upload it.

For new readers, this fic will center in an AU in which the White Fang has started up another war five years ago before Blake leaves, which puts the country of Vale in wartime at this point. Obviously things are going to work very differently because of this, such as teams and certain canon plotlines. This fic will follow its own storyline.

For old readers, this story will be updated and some things may be fixed and switched around to work with everything up to Volume 5, and perhaps from there we'll even continue it.

As a side note, I have never written anything on my profile page, but I have now. Check that out for a list of future stories and to stay up to date on what I'm working on.

If you enjoyed this, drop that follow, reader! Keep an eye on this fic. I think we can assure you that you won't regret it.

B/N: Hey there, Phantom here!...it's been a long time. But some works just aren't meant to be buried. As ISA has likely updated, this fic is being revived and revised, with edits helping the world make more sense with better understanding of RWBYverse mechanics and making characters feel even more believable now that we know more about them.

I'm just happy to be back along for the ride, and for those of you reading this for the first time, you'll have fun regardless. We're mostly positive of it! Support is always appreciated, and we'll be having fun getting the rest of the fic back up and running in the meantime. Beta out!