Rain poured from the tip of her white, tricorn hat into the bouncing mud at her feet. A sheen of water rolled over her long leather coat, down passed a weighted silver rapier that sung its metallic song at the beat of every raindrop. Arms folded, foot tapping, the heiress hid her shivering under a guise of reluctant patience, the brass lantern in front of her burning away its irresistible incense above a bright flame.
A cloud-choked night one day late of the full moon, Weiss waited for the approach of the beast that butchered the farmhand that resided on the edge of her father's serfdom, and just as she considered her hunt to be fruitless, a ragged figure appeared sauntering towards her. Weiss eyed the figure, the anxiety of waiting finally gone, but waited to confirm her suspicions.
"Speak knave." Her demand came in clear through the downpour.
Coming closer, she could make out the stranger somewhat, a thin figure dragging a farming scythe, donning torn rags and a burlap hood. Too cold of weather for such apparel, the heiress knew no decent stranger would dress as such.
Weiss's blue eyes flickered down to the lantern of incense. "Not even a hungry animal would come to a smell so putrid," she mused in the practiced husky voice of a man. Her arms unfolded, a left hand resting upon her weapon. "Come feed beast, the thirst must be unbearable."
An aggravated growl came from deep within the stranger's chest. He splashed a bare foot forward in the mud, taking his scythe by two hands.
"Have you not found your proper claws Wolf?!" Weiss growled back.
A spray of water gold in the lanterns light threw itself behind the stranger as he sprinted forward, right over the lantern and brought his farming implement down, more as a hammer than a blade, towards Weiss. A quick draw and the effort of both hands on her sword blocked the scythe before it smashed her head, but the heiress dropped to her knee, spattering black dots all over her lower body and her white attire. The stranger pulled back and tried hammering again, only for his scythe to be slapped to the side by a bladed handguard and a counter thrust.
The stranger staggered back, but the noble sprung from her kneel into a lunge and made up the distance, poking a hole in the Wolf's belly. Weiss didn't hear any statement of pain but caught a glimpse of gritted teeth. With a downward swing, the stranger swept up a spray of black mud that broke the line of sight between the fighters, scaring Weiss into backing up only for the handle of the scythe to pierce the curtain of water like a spear and punch the heiress in her gut anyway, albeit with less force than had Weiss stood still.
"Clever fiend!" she coughed.
The handle still jutted out, the stranger stumbling forward, Weiss took the chance to step closer and inside the foe's reach, grabbing hold of the shaft with her right hand and tackling the stranger. The foe stumbled back but Weiss pulled on the handle, disarming the man while tripping him into a punch from Weiss's bladed hand guard. Blood flew from the man's face, quickly becoming invisible in the black night as he flipped midair onto the ground, back first. Pirouetting, the heiress turned and dropped once more to her knee to deliver a merciful stab to his heart.
Reacting far quicker than most, the man kicked with one leg into his opponent's wrist, bouncing back the stab, then kicked with the other and caught the heiress in the mouth, launching her backwards several feet. Both breathing heavily and scrambling to their feet, Weiss saw the man without his hood and the light of the lantern casted one half of his face in gold light and the other in complete blackness much like a painted theatre mask. His muddy face was hard to make out and marred with gunk, but Weiss recognized a degree of androgyny that might have meant the foe was more heifer than bull.
For a minute, they eyed each other, slowly starting a circular pace centered on the lantern, the stranger rearming the scythe Weiss had dropped during her short flight. The heiress felt a cold chill down her back as the icy water soaked through the seams of her leather attire. The stranger, gritted bloody teeth bared, felt a rush of clarity return to mind thanks in part to the open gash now adorning his face.
Weiss darted first, rapier extending from her arm as though it was all one rigid length. The Wolf parried the tip to the side with the reach granted by her tool, locking the blade in his armpit and pushing into the heiress, her feet gaining no traction in the mud and taking a wide stance to avoid falling once more. He tried pushing farther, running into her while she maintained stance and slid as though on ice. Lifting a knee, Weiss caught the foe in the stomach with a muffled thud, falling into a hunched huddle inside the stranger's space.
He slammed his free elbow into the heiress's back a half dozen times, a quiet crack garnering a scream from the white clad fighter as she finally spun out of the lock, her coat twirling around her and flinging dirt in every direction.
She was not used to beasts who fought with skill and instinct.
She was trained to fence, she was trained to hunt, but she could not handle both at the same time.
She needed to even the field now she was nearing her pain threshold. Adrenaline would eventually subside and she would be worse than dead.
Back peddling, Weiss took a proper fencing stance after a moment of attempted composure. "Come Wolf. You have a blade, use it why don't ye?"
The stranger hesitated, the lingering madness and hunger of the full moon leaving all rational thoughts perverted by frenzy. Somehow, in some way, it made sense to use the scythe to finish the heiress.
Charging on, footsteps slapping all the way, the Wolf swung his blade to hook and maim his opponent. Getting creative with her hand guard, the loose definitions of what constituted a parry, Weiss redirected the swing over her head and to the side, a quick backswing tracing a line across the Wolf's cheeks and the bridge of his nose, blood filling the seam a moment later and washing into the mud caked on his face.
His fury signaled with a yip and a growl, he lashed out with a cavalcade of slashes, Weiss dodged and parried all his attempts to his dismay and frustration. Lazy backsteps, sassy side steps, and playful parries did her well, a spring coming to her step. Attempting a different angle of attack, the stranger swiped upwards, the tip catching Weiss's hat and throwing it behind her as she barely dodged. Carrying the momentum in a breakthrough of technique, the stranger kept the scythe soaring in its ark over his head, pivoting on his heel as the blade made a perfect circle around his body, coming back to Weiss with surprising speed.
Unfortunately for him, she saw it coming.
She got on the wrong side of the Wolf and stabbed at him, his follow up attack missing wide and throwing his balance as he pulled his head back away from the riposte. Weiss whistled as she watched the stranger fall into a backwards cartwheel away from her.
"Unique," she whispered.
The stranger stumbled into a low stance, scythe behind him, silver eyes darting from Weiss's face to her sword and to her legs.
She wiped the brown and red mess from her lips and chin. "Try it." Weiss cracked a smile with blood-stained teeth.
With incredible speed, the Wolf exploded towards the heiress, frightening her. She dropped to her knee and stabbed the ground in a last ditch effort. The low flying blade that was aimed for her legs instead hooked the stiff rapier blade, Weiss bracing the handle for dear life.
The Wolf's momentum did not stop, his body like the bucket of water on the end of a spinning rope. His knee and outstretched foot drawing a perfect curve in the mud, a gold and black spray blooming like a flower as he circled around Weiss, the heiress scrambling on her knees to outrun the curve of the blade as it raced towards her.
Skidding to a messy stop, the stranger crouched low like Weiss, then with superhuman strength pulled on the grounded sword, uprooting it and toppling its wielder. Bloodlust flooded his veins as he made a break for the killing blow, jumping into a downward strike.
Weiss rolled over and let the stranger fall on her blade.
Howling, the stranger stood with haste, but lost his footing and collapsed. Bloodied feet kicked hopelessly as shaking hands pulled out the silver blade. A weak cry was drowned out by the rain, the thin body curling up into a scared fetal position.
Panting, Weiss pushed herself up reluctantly. Limping over, she picked up her muddied sword, picked up her muddied hat, stood over the Wolf, and took aim.
Hesitation.
Sluggishly, the heiress kneeled beside the fallen beast. She no longer cared about being messy, her white attire entirely black and brown, indistinguishable from a well layered peasant. Reaching within the belly of the beast, the body tried pulling against Weiss's attempts, but failed. She pried away a hand and checked the finger nails.
Long claws were actively pulling back into the flesh.
Weiss tilted her head at the Wolf, her white mess of a mane falling to one side. She was simply too impressed by the fight to just end it there. Curious to his face, she turned his head and wiped the mud and blood the best she could, her own hands mostly smearing the mud and the blood refilling the clean spot she made. Rather, her wipe broke the base of the filth and the pelting rain began to wash it away one spot at a time.
A young girl.
Weiss sympathized with the confusion. In her hunter's garb, most mistook the heiress for a effeminate young lord.
She looked over the girl once more, biting her lip at the bleeding hole in the girl's mid chest. Weiss knew how painful that could be.
Weiss thought to herself. The fight was over, she bested the beast. It was hard, and probably would've gone fairly differently had she been equipped with her revolver. The threat could be easily removed permanently once she finished off the girl, but…
She maintained most of her humanity one day after the full moon. The bloodlust and strength were unavoidable, but this girl mostly maintained a human form and retained thought, using a scythe to fight instead of claws. The taint must've been weak with her, she mused.
Maybe she didn't have to kill her.
What if she brought her to the estate and kept her in lock?
What if she held witness to the girl during her waking hours?
What if she could employ her skill? At the cost of her freedom of course, but still…
"Well Wolf, looks as though you get to live another day."
Weiss balled up her fist, then decked the downed girl, putting her into a feverish sleep. It was time to get the beast home before the true pain of her fractured ribs paralyzed her.
-End-
Hey, you, yeah I'm talking to you. I'm looking to team up with a talented writer or two. Everyone's talking about "fixing" RWBY, and I quite liked Celtic Phoenix Productions "Fixing RWBY" rewrite, so what if we did that? Rewrote the story and did it justice? If you think you're up to the task, PM me, and if you want to team up (I'm looking to do fighting scenes) and do a different take on RWBY, hell, maybe even a high school au, PM and I'll talk it over with ya.