I had a completely random thought in the middle of the night last night and came up with this, and it was too good not to write. I love random neural firings like that.
Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, and I wish I was better at coming up with funny disclaimers.
A Lesson in Grimm Biology
"... And that is when I learned an invaluable lesson," Professor Port said, about to conclude another of his long-winded stories. "When you're low on Aura, out of Dust, and facing a Beowolf Alpha, kicking it in the shins will give you a few extra seconds to come up with a backup plan. Now then, any questions?"
He looked out at the faces in the lecture hall. Some were incredulous, some bored, some completely zoned out. A single, fashionably-gloved hand rose near the back row.
"Hm? Ah, yes. Miss Adel, what is your question?"
Coco took her feet off the desk to address the portly professor properly. "Uh, yeah. I was wondering, and I get the feeling I'm not the only one curious about this. What if you kicked a Beowolf 'below the belt', if you catch my drift?"
"Ah, yes, well, ummm, hmmm..." Professor Port was momentarily taken aback by the nature of Coco's question, and then found himself without a proper answer. He stroked his mustache in thought. "Hmm. Come to think of it, I don't think any such information has ever been recorded. Hmm. Tell you what, Miss Adel: if, by the end of the semester, you find the opportunity to kick a Beowolf 'below the belt', as you put it, submit your findings to me in writing for some extra credit. After all, there is more to the art of the hunt than just the kill; gathering intel, and learning about your prey is just as important as the final blow. And any piece of information, no matter how small, could be the key to finally defeating the Grimm."
A small and sly smile graced Coco's face as she got up from her seat as the bell rang.
"You're on, Prof."
-END-
I'd like to think that, after the Volume 2 finale, Coco got that extra credit ;P.
I finished this in about an hour, so that's a personal record I'm never beating. If you're wondering, the random neural firing that prompted this was Port saying "And that, class, is why we kick Beowolves in the shins". … Yeah, I don't know, either.
Anyway, this is somehow the second story I've written in a row about getting hit in the cajones. With that in mind, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go ice my privates. Lates.