The snow fell silently in the night, each individual flake landing amongst their fellows and freezing into a solid white mass that blanketed the ground and the limbs of the trees overhead.
By contrast, the footsteps of monsters fell heavily, grinding the icy earth beneath with squeaks and crunches. Enormous wolves as black as pitch, save for the strange bone-like masks that covered their faces, walked upright like men amongst the trees of the forest. The largest among the pack raised its cracked snout and sniffed the air before letting loose a piercing howl.
Far above them, a mound of snow detached itself from the tree branch it lay on, revealing itself to be a slight figure in a stark white hood. Slowly, silently, the pale ranger drew back the string on a strangely shaped bow. The arrowhead caught some light emanating from nowhere in particular and gleamed scarlet in the instant before the arrow flew straight downward.
BOOM
The ground shook with the force of the explosion, sending Beowolves flying and rattling the nearby trees. The white-cloaked girl threw back the hood, revealing shoulder length black hair that lightened into red toward the tips. Beneath her, the slender branch she stood on creaked ominously before snapping off from the trunk.
As she fell silently, the girl took the handle of her bow and twisted it sharply, pulling apart the halves of the weapon. Twin curved blades fell upon the neck of a Beowolf, neatly detaching the head from the body, and the young woman rolled out of the way of another Grimm's claws. The short swords flashed once, twice, three times, and the Beowolves fell away in disembodied pieces, expiring in swirls of black ash.
She dashed and spun through the trees, her white cloak swirling about her small frame. With every slash of her swords, another Beowolf died, but for every one of the Grimm that fell, another three leapt forth from the darkness to take its place, converging upon the tiny figure. As the wolves drew closer, the girl shrank in upon herself until she seemed a speck of white in a sea of black. The mindless monsters slashed at the cloth of her cloak with violent ferocity, rending the fabric until a flurry of white scraps flew into the air.
The Alpha Beowolf lifted its massive, cracked snout into the air to howl with savage triumph, but stopped suddenly. The Creatures of Grimm are not ordinary animals, but they do share many characteristics with their mundane counterparts, including in this case, the sense of smell. The Alpha sniffed the air with confusion, expecting the scent of blood and death that accompanied slain humans and finding none. Unexpectedly, from the scraps of white fabric came the smell of... roses?
A ripple of movement spread through the black ranks as the other Beowolves sensed their Alpha's unease, but it was cut short by another red-tipped arrow whistling out from the dark sky into the center of the pack, right where the girl had fallen. The ensuing explosion vaporized those closest to it, and tore apart the rest, tossing them into the trees like rag dolls. In one fell swoop, all of the Beowolves had been slain. All save for one.
The Alpha snarled as it got to its feet, several new hairline cracks running across its bone mask and spikes. Not that it cared much, Grimm are not vain about their appearance, nor do they feel pain, at least not in the way that ordinary creatures do. Some dark instinct warned it of approaching danger, and the Grimm spun around, slashing at the girl who had just appeared behind it.
The girl yelped as her swords were knocked from her hands, and jumped back from the Alpha Beowolf's claws. The massive black werewolf sensed a spike of fear, and knew then that it had won. This girl might have slain its entire pack, but it would die, like all the other humans it had faced. The Alpha Beowolf growled as it pounced upon the white-cloaked girl, and then knew no more, as the dark forest exploded with silver light.
"Well done, Miss Rose."
Summer Rose looked up from where she sat crouched in the snow, inspecting her swords for damage. There was none of course, she had made Silver Thorn to be as strong and durable as possible, knowing that a Huntress without her weapons was as good as dead. Two men stood before her now, having seemingly appeared from nowhere, though Summer knew that they had been observing her the whole time.
The one who had spoken, a tall man in a green and black suit with silver hair and small, round, black glasses, tapped the snow-covered ground with his cane. "Still, there was room for improvement. Can you tell me what went wrong?"
"The Alpha took me by surprise." Summer replied. "It shouldn't have been able to knock my weapons out of my hands."
"What else." The other man spoke now. He was as tall as his companion, though in a different way. Where the silver-haired man towered over Summer even as he leaned on his cane, this one stood ramrod straight in a military sort-of manner, which was accentuated by the white uniform he wore, designating him as an officer in the army of Atlas.
Summer shifted her weight, feeling a cramp starting in her left leg. "I used my silver eyes to freeze the Grimm."
The military officer shook his head. "I was going to say that you should have used your Semblance to get away, but-"
"Specialist Ironwood is right." The silver-haired man interrupted. "The power of the silver eyes is only to be used as a last resort, at least until you come to Beacon."
"I'd still prefer it if she came to my school." Ironwood grunted. "She is a citizen of Atlas, after all."
"Your pride in your Academy is commendable, James. But realistically speaking, you would not be able to teach Miss Rose how to utilize her unique ability."
"So you say, Ozpin." Ironwood sighed. "So you say."
"So does this mean I've been accepted to Beacon?" Summer asked, the excitement in her voice clear.
Ozpin smiled as he drew a letter from the inside pocket of his suit, handing it to Summer. "You would have been a student at Beacon no matter what, Miss Rose. This was just a formality."