AN: This is a short series that'll be updated in conjunction with the original fanfic. "Monster Hunter RWBY: Unite!" Check it out over at my profile.
The Felyne Prowels – Episode 1:
Crocea Mors was an old cat, but an old cat made to means of a wise cat. Jaune Arc, the grandson of his meowster had ran away from home. Why? The Felyne did not have the intelligence level to exactly know and could only throw guesses. Yet it had a duty to uphold. Without even grabbing its high ranking gear from the old days, the cat used all its senses to chase after. Jaune was the youngling of the family. Only older than his two last sisters who were still but four years old. His father stupidly gave him no pre-hunter training like his own meowster had for him.
It was a mistake that even the Felyne could see, and anytime the blonde tried to do anything. He'd quickly fail and get no help. Such an act enraged the Felyne. To the point that the cat refused the man to be his meowster after the passing of his first one. No, that luxury would be saved for Jaune Arc. The Felyne took it upon himself to start his hunter training as best as a Felyne could. The young blonde would never take it seriously though. Always thought to be playing hunter rather than actual training.
Regardless, the Felyne could see the fruits of his labor as Jaune unknowingly got stronger. Who'd had thought if you put a child through the same training course as a Felyne went through could do so much? It worked wonders as his training school grades skyrocketed through the roof. Yet the coming of age came and his father refused his had seemed to refuse his early admission. A dispute later and the young whelp was gone.
No time for anything, Crocea Mors followed through. To where? A new adventure!
The first three missions Jaune undertook yielded quite the profit. As an experienced Felyne, Crocea Mors knew all the good spots on Mountain Glenn and all the items required to get the most efficiency to gather. Jaune was already on his second quest with his sword and shield already upgraded with both their efforts. He his second mission allowed him to ditch the fur garbs for leather armor. The scraps for both equipment was used to make Crocea Mors own equipment as well.
Yet it was the fourth mission that the change happened. The cat could hear the cries of distress from Jaune's female companion from above the cliffs. He had gotten the quest requirements from the Courier as he woke up and set off to gather on his own after waking up from the supply box. The Felyne quickly grabbed the vines and edges of the cliff and began to climb up to the rescue, but before it could make it up. The Giadrome had fallen off the cliff. Crocea Mors watched as it descended and made the decision to jump off after it.
It let out something it hadn't an ages. A hissing battle cry as its enthusiasm rocked the Felyne to the core. The self-applied buffs activating as vigor his high and the cat slammed withdraw its metal sword. A stabbing lunge was given as the Felyne landed on the head of the Giadrome that was staggered on the floor. A pained roar escaped its lips as the Felyne skillfully jumped off and landed in front of the massive bird-wyvern. Or at least massive for the cat.
The Giadrome got up, but one of its hind legs was completely shattered. The cat's eyes narrowed as it rushed in and weaved under the maw of the Giadrome. A vertical slash cut through the joints of the working leg as the weight split the rest open and toppled the creature. The Giadrome thrashed in terror as the tail hit the Felyne dead on. Knocking the weakly armored Felyne into the wall. The cat staggered a bit before recollecting itself.
It jumped onto of the Giadrome with its blade raise. With a slash that could only be described as pure skill, it shot straight through the skull and pierced the Giadrome into the grey matter. A crackling twist was given as the drome dropped onto the floor with a thud. The cat rolled off the top of the head and stroked a pose. One knee was on the ground while the other was foot planted. A hand touched the floor as the other was raised up into the air. A pose that was most popularly known as the Nikos for obvious reasons.
Crocea Mors would then later grab its bag and head back for camp. The threat silently being dealt with.