One week and one day had passed since Pyrrha and team SSSN's boat, or rather the fishing boat granting secret passage, had set sail from Vale when the ship anchored itself in the harbors of Mistral. They got to see first hand that the Sea Braver was a speedy boat, a necessity to outrun water borne Grimm, and that in the week's time had sailed north from Vale, went between the northern coasts of the mainland and the southern coast of Atlas heading east, followed the beaches of northern Mistral in the shallow waters, went all around the peninsula, and finally pulled into the eastern facing bay of the eastern Kingdom. In that time, Pyrrha and the leaderless team had learned of the news regarding the kingdoms stances on the massacre, and their immediate declarations of war. As expected, Vale, the victim of the attacks in the last couple years that Pyrrha herself had witnessed on all occasions one way or another, proclaimed all out vendetta. Though she hated to admit it, she more than understood why they choose to do so, and couldn't fault them. Atlas soon after sided with Vale and their new goal to incarcerate all Faunus and eliminate the White Fang. Vacuo argued the numbers of the massacre were greatly exaggerated and rejected the middle kingdom's initiative. Mistral sided with Vacuo. It was agreed that in thirty days time, restrictions on inter-kingdom combat would be lifted, the month's time given so that each kingdom had time to set up defenses against Grimm attacks amongst other things. That alone was enough to keep everyone awake at night and question the future, but Pyrrha had plenty more to be concerned about.

Amber's soul was anchored to the redhead's body. Since they sailed, her mental and emotional double vision had almost completely disappeared, but the foreign presence was still very noticeable, drifting like a intangible wax in the lava lamp that was Pyrrha's form. It irked her immensely. And the thought that she had stolen someone's soul had not cleared from her guilt yet either.

And were it not enough, Vale's bold declaration forced her to leave behind all her friends, her family members born of other mothers, and flee to her homeland. She left behind Jaune, the man she loved and the man who loved her. Pyrrha's flat bed pillow was soaked with the salt of her tears.

A wooden plank slid onto the bustling harbor of Mistral's edge, a terraced city on a hill with white alabaster and yellowish sandstone buildings draped with ivy covering every square block of the central slope with roof tiles ranging from brick red, faded blue, and charcoal black adding depth beyond the stencil thin shadows casted by the rising sun across the cloud spotted horizon. A comforting thought occurred as the captain of the ship shook her hand farewell and her feet carried her away. She realized that she was home.

On the southern side of the white light that was central Mistral, Old Town, a collection of exquisitely carved wooden meeting halls, houses, huts, taverns, and street stalls, connected directly to the forested Mountainside Neighborhood where she grew up. Her father had to have been still asleep on the couch, still clutching family photos, just like how she left him when she left for Beacon for her second year, she thought whimsically. That would be her first destination. Or it would have been, had not a young teenage boy in sunglasses and a disheveled middle aged woman approached her and greeted her by name.

"Ms. Nikos," welcomed the woman, "Headmaster Yelette of Haven would like you to meet her right now." The woman politely ignored Pyrrha's cagey reaction and looked to the three young men tailing behind the girl. "The three gentlemen may come if they wish, though Missus Yelette would prefer if they did."

Off the same boat Pyrrha and the others traveled, Cinder, Mercury, and Emerald, all in disguise, disembarked with sighs of ashamed relief. They strutted hastily past the also disguised Pyrrha, focusing instead on the three Mistral natives. Once out of earshot, Mercury spoke.

"Finally! I was about ready to go on a murder spree if I had to see that blue haired nerd mope around one more time."

Emerald clawed her palms with her fingernails, "Okay, I get that me and that Sage guy have matching skin tones, but dammit, he was on me like flies on stink. Always offering hugs," she deepened her voice to impersonate the boy, "'oh, I know how hard it must be, I'm sorry...'" She cast a hateful glance to the waters, teeth grinding. "And the thought of getting swallowed whole in the water sure didn't help me sleep."

The head of the trio rubbed her furrowed brow. "Focus," she said, her voice tired with the sort of stress someone develops from consistently orchestrating plans upon plans with precise detail and attention while being surrounded by seemingly incompetent children in comparison. "If we want to find Winter, Spring, and the second part of Autumn, we need to find a certain someone who can find people. But first, we need to establish contact with our agents..."

Pyrrha, Sage, Scarlet, and Neptune followed the woman and boy along streets they all remembered to a location the three boys knew very well: Haven Academy. Perched north of Mistral as a separate area with the intent to have somewhere to move people in times of emergency, similarly to Beacon in relation to Vale, it shared many of the same facilities as Beacon, just made smaller and had fighting pits that surrounded the perimeter of the land. It differed most though by its approach in architectural taste however, where Beacon was like a grey castled cathedral with gardens of flowers organized within plots of space, Haven was a tan airy palace with decorative pergolas extending from archways and walkways, with wired fruit baskets hanging underneath dark green vines sewn into the lattice work of the open slats. Once at the tallest tower of the somewhat modest academy, all the differences in the world didn't stop the four young adults from feeling massive deja vu when presented before the old headmaster, as her office felt like an almost carbon copy (shape wise) to Ozpin's tower, except in different colors and ironworking windows and curtains instead of glass panels.

The headmaster, Mrs. Yelette, was a strikingly beautiful woman of braided silver hair, a curved figure, and piercing gaze. Though her well advanced years showed through, she carried herself remarkably in a soft gold button down shirt with rolled up sleeves held back by thin strap tabs, a sage green scarf that hung low, metallic bracelets of true gold and platinum, and well fitting... blue jeans. All but Sage found the combo tasteful yet odd. "Ahh, so you finally got here?" she half barked at the four of them, catching them well off guard, then she looked to the woman and child, fluttering her hand as she said "your contracts are fulfilled."

"I'll give the invoice to what's-her-face, the new professor" squeaked the boy in sunglasses, voice cracking. He adjusted his red sleeveless shirt to sit right on both shoulders, one strap refusing to stay put.

"Don't bother, she couldn't find her ass with a stick. Just give it to me tomorrow. Oh, and uh, when was the last time you updated the roster?"

"Bout a week ago, I was going to check it again tomorrow," he told her with a tired sigh.

"That's fine."

"Also, I set up a third account, so when you're signing it, I'll put a post-it with designations on the side for you to copy from."

"Got it. You're good to go." The two escorts let themselves out, and the headmaster stood and measured up the four native foreigners, taking steady steps towards them. "So you came back huh? You decide that Haven isn't good enough for you, that you'd rather go to Beacon and play with the other kids, feel special, play schoolyard romance while you're at it..." Unlike Ozpin and Glynda, who towered over their students, Yelette met them eye to eye, but her presence was just as commanding if not more so as she pushed into the personal space of the others, glaring at them inches between their faces, growling out loud her thoughts. "But that didn't really work out for you, did it? No?" They nodded no, stepping back and cowering to the woman. "No, it didn't. So, what do you think my reaction is when I find out that three of four of my moronic boys who went tra-la-la-ling off originally and a girl who never gave me a chance come home after their amusement park ride got cut short?"

A little hot ball of rage lit up in Pyrrha's chest, driving her to stomp her foot down and raise her voice, something she did not expect to do, especially to a headmaster, starting "stop right there! That's not fair! You have no idea what-"

She stopped when she felt Scarlet's hand on her shoulder. Pulling the female redhead back, he finally greeted his old headmaster. "That's the first thing you say to us after all this time? I feel home already ma'm." Pyrrha gave a confused look behind her, Neptune and Sage both breaking out into sheepish grins along with their teammate and headmaster.

"I'm glad you're back boys, you were some of my more promising students," she said, now more relaxed with obvious worry weighing on her some. "And you, Pyrrha, you were going to be my most promising student, but who was I kidding, Ozpin always attracts the star bound ones."

"I uh, uhm... I'm sorry?" the younger girl stammered slowly. She had difficulty with the change in attitude, her intellectual faculties still sluggish from the emotional overhaul from last week.

"We have a lot to talk about, a lot to do, and only so many hours before I drink myself into a stupor," she said with a low hearty chuckle. "None of you got to bring your baggage, did you?" she asked, already knowing full well the answer.

"No ma'am" answered Sage, "what we're wearing is all we have," he said with arms raised in a sign of tired submission.

"Hmph, as I thought. Boys, take yourselves and Ms. Nikos here down to your old dorms and rest. You know when lunch is, return to me here tomorrow after lunch."

"Understood" they all echoed.

She turned to Pyrrha and politely continued to say, "and you, Ms. Nikos, desperately need a change of clothes, something a little more red, something you would be more comfortable in rather than male's sailors clothes. I'll have a seamstress take your measurements in half an hour, she'll make you something nice."

"Uh, thank-"

"It won't be like what you were wearing before though, thankfully, it'll be something a bit more tasteful, less revealing. Honestly darling, you usually look like a high class hooker" the headmaster spoke freely and casually.

"Uhm... thank you?"

North of Vale, at the cusp of where the waters of the oceans reached farthest inland sat Firebase Alma, a mile long clearing of hundreds of tan canvas tents in a variety of sizes with a half completed concrete bunker housing field command in the center of it all. Adjacent to that was the start of a asphalt airfield with one fully erected ship hangar capable of housing ten Bullheads if lined two by five. Many more facilities were planned for creation over the next three months, but in seven days this was what they had, and the war started in 22 days.

The firebase was pulling in Vale's military personnel and equipment by the shipload. Draftees and volunteers that had passed a basic physical the day before were getting rushed examinations before starting an equally rushed training program. The day after being titled official huntsmen and huntresses, the students of Beacon were among the bodies shipped in under Qrow's name. Most drop ships didn't touch down or even lower a ramp for trained personnel to jump from, less graceful people like Jaune landing with a great thud. Qrow, who accompanied them from Beacon, lead the 19 fresh graduates to the tents set up just for contract groups like them, all set up at the easternmost point of the firebase and the farthest point from the airstrip.

A lot of the roaming soldiers measured the party as they walked, the group being made up of the broken teams of JNPR and CRDL, Yang, and miraculously complete teams ORCA, BNSH, and BLNK. Something in the air had a third of them sneezing.

"We have arrived" growled Qrow, slinking in the moderately elaborate establishment. They all hemmed and hawed as the tent filled them with a odd sense of home. It was a four walled tent with the corners following a line up to the center which was held in place by a thick mast about four meters tall, the mast probably one of the trees that was cut down to clear the area. The whole space was roughly thirty by thirty feet, with rudimentary curtain set-ups splitting the space into a middle aisle with three 'rooms' on either side, two sets of bunk bed hammocks each 'room' (for a total of 24 hammocks), and brown horse blankets carpeting the rest of the ground. Basic rectangular chests scattered the tent, not twenty in total but close, and when Qrow called them to "sit down", they used the chests as seats.

"This doesn't look too bad" commented Yang, the only one who at the moment felt safe speaking out around the disgruntled man. The sound of people setting up more similar tents, people sneezing and Jaune hiccuping, moving crates, ships flying overhead, and shouting during their exercise regimens made sure that not a moment ever felt silent.

"I requested it specifically so we wouldn't get stuck out in the rain with shit tarps or something, speaking of which..." he trailed off, looking up. The hazy clouds were opening up, and the start of rain could be seen landing on their canvas ceiling. "Now that I have your attention, I'm going to reiterate what was half heartedly discussed yesterday, because some higher ranking officers will ask you questions, and you need to know these things even if they don't ask." His hands landed on his hips, long legs pacing below them. "This is the state of affairs. Some civilians are volunteering and some are being drafted; they're making up the majority of the army. Non-arrested and non-graduated trainees from Beacon like you guys pre-yesterday are filling in military ranks, all compulsory. Huntsmen and Huntresses with questionable loyalties are in the same boat, and are taking direct orders. We are under contract which reads we will give services to the Vale military as combat units separate from the military, and you all are my employees, and as such don't report or answer to their ranks but to me. That's an important detail I want you all to remember. If they order you to do something, you don't have to do it. Of course, if you end up being the only one who can help in a certain situation and you refuse with no hard reason, there will be consequences, so choose your battles. Anyways," he continued, folding his arms to his chest this time, "our group is one of the exceptions because they fear us. We're in an odd position, where they suspect us of having strong loyalty to dissenting opinions but have no proof, but fear pissing us off because we're strong enough to be a threat, so they want to keep a little distance from us. As long as we-"

Jaune sneezed particularly loudly, hiccuping before he finished, choked, then burped the excess air he swallowed. "Dammit Jaune" was whispered amongst the youngsters.

Qrow sighed. "As long as we remain helpful in some form, they'll pretend nothing is up. As it is, they're offering training as you well know."

"What are we going to be doing?" asked Ash, the final member of ORCA, a girl who bothered the older students by her uncanny resemblance to Ruby, what with a large sniper rifle scythe, black and white Lolita clothes, and hyperactive nature.

"Scouting, hunting Grimm, and the occasional attack on the White Fang. Which reminds me..." reaching into a chest pocket, Qrow extruded his drink, taking large swigs from it. Making his way towards the tent flaps to leave, he informed them "for strategic purposes, no shocker, they 'asked'" he made air quotes with his fingers, "that we have a military designation. Actually, as demands go this one is more than reasonable, so we are Ranger Company, and I'm head officer, remember that." Once gone, the newly formed Ranger Company looked to each other, unsure of what they were supposed to do now, nervous about what was to come. Then Qrow returned, "I forgot to tell you guys, if you guys want to accept the auxiliary training Glynda setup, they want you to go now." He walked back out.

"Welp, I'm off!" Yang jumped up and out the flap door.

Ben's finger pointed weakly at the exit, asking simply "why is she so excited?"

"They're offering to train her as a pilot" Jaune answered in between sneezes. He and his teammates followed Yang out of the tent.

Loraine the white haired knight of BLNK jogged after them, curious to their destinations. "So what'd you guys choose?" Her plate armor jangled and chinked as they walked along.

Jaune pulled out a fold out map, noting at what point he would have to eventually turn to reach where he had to go. "I'm taking up cavalry training."

"Nice dude! Me too!" the third year cheered, giving him a high five. As he met her outreached hand with his own, he could spot some scarring along her shoulder peeking out thanks to her shifting rusted armor. As a hyperhemic, a birth defect, her Aura did not protect her like a shield but instead healed her at extraordinary rates, just not perfectly; as such, Loraine has extreme scarring and can't feel half her body. She is also the only person most anyone knows who sacrifices vision to wear a heavy helmet.

"Yeah, I didn't know horses were still used by anyone, but apparently they can be really good. Plus being in cavalry comes with optional archery and spear training, so, yeah, I'm in. Oh, and walking sucks" he lightly chuckled.

"Nice, what about you mister quiet?" she asked referring to Ren.

The pink eyed boy was caught off guard by the question, mostly just by virtue of receiving attention. "Oh, uhm, uh, computer programming." The one teaching the class was the one whom supplied Ren with his hacking equipment during the masquerade ruse, graduate Lancer's partner, Hawk Lector.

A shrug. Ren raised a hurt brow. "What about you crazy chick?"

No one was surprised to see Nora skipping. "Heavy ordinance! Smashing things and blowing things up is like hot chocolate and whip cream, or pancakes and syrup, they're meant to go together!" she laughed, arms flailing about.

A shiver ran down all three of their backs, leading Jaune to say "the thought of you having more destructive power is a unsettling- hey, isn't that Ruby?" Across the yard, amongst a walking handful of men who gave the impression of experience, he spotted a very distinct eyepatch. Attached to the eyepatch was black hair with red highlights, pulled back into a high ponytail that reached her shoulders, and wild bangs that fell on either side of her face. Underneath the hair was pale skin, thin cheeks, and heavy set bags underneath the one good eye. She wore the Vale military standard apparel too, a form fitting black tank top, silver dog tags, and grey baggy cargo pants with boots. Nora noticed her too, and together they called out "Ruby" to see if she would respond. If it was Ruby, she had a completely alien vibe to her.

They knew they were loud enough for anyone in that direction to hear them but the girl didn't react. "Maybe it wasn't Ruby?" Nora offered with more uncertainty than Jaune had seen in a long while.

"I don't know, maybe she was ignoring us more like. I don't know" he repeated solemnly, eyes drifting to the ground. "Maybe it wasn't her."

The rusted knight scratched her nonexistent beard. "Oh yeah, by the way, where's ice queen? I thought she was coming with us..."

The male knight faked a surprised look. "Oh, didn't you know? She went to powder her nose, she'll be back soon."

A laugh was shared. "Oh, obviously" Loraine jested, smacking her own forehead, "I must've missed the memo."

"Ha, no, she uh, was flown to Atlas yesterday right after our meeting, something about her father. She said she'd be back." The map showed that a left turn at where they were would lead Jaune and Loraine straight to the horse stables."Anyways, we'll see you later Ren n' Nora, here's the map. I'ma rode uh hoarse." His butchered english impersonation garnered a laugh from the ginger.

The horse stables, more akin to a shabby pen, rested on the edge of the firebase, and a head of yellow hair belonging to one of the people tending the horses turned and stared straight at the huntsmen. "Wait a second" Jaune mumbled a second before his un-worded question was answered.

"Little brother! What're you doing here?" asked a woman's voice, scratchy like Jaune's.

At first dismayed, then relieved by the familiar face, he waved to the girl, shouting to her "hey Enora! I signed up for cavalry training."

"Wow! Jaune, I haven't seen you ages." Jaune bit his lip. He knew that she was going to talk his ear off and fill him in on everything that had happened since he left. Question was, was he going like what he heard?

Sun dropped to his knees onto the hard barren dirt, sweat dripping from every pore, and dropped the leash to the sled that carried a still healing Blake. Chest heaving for breath, Sun spoke in his exhaustion, "hey Blake... I spy... with my little eye... something... tan..."

From underneath her protective linen that protected her from the sun, a tired voice answered "dirt."

His head swiveled in both directions, rolling hills of dry dirt behind him, dirt to the left of him, dirt to the right of him, and dirt with scattered red rock formations miles out in front of him. This was the start of the desert that lead to Vacuo. "Yeah, that's a good guess, a good guess" he nodded his head weakly.

Sun was more than delighted to discover hidden villages in the forest and plains all along the railroads from Vale to Vacuo. At the first one he found, they made a much better cast for Blake's broken leg, and gave her medicine to prevent a fever. After that, they drove the two of them to the next village down the line, where then they were briefly fed and and given a ride to the next village. The farther away from Vale they got, the more people wanted to help them regardless of them being faunus. After a week of that, Sun and Blake reached the last town before the desert, where they were warned to stay a good distance away from the railroad to avoid being spotted, and given a compass and bearing to follow for the next town, but no vehicle. Sun was no longer delighted. Sun came to the conclusion that five minutes of dragging Blake felt like an eternity, and would just have to deal. Most of a day later of mindless walking in progressively hot and dry terrain pushed his patience for boredom to the edge.

Done with his little rest, he stood back up to continue marching. A glance upwards to the sky where there wasn't a cloud to be seen disheartened him. "You know... sometimes... I like it when the sky is splotchy... because then you can like... see the shapes... but not the shapes of the clouds... but where there's no clouds in comparison to the clouds..." Sun confused himself.

A pause. "You mean seeing the blue in between as the primary shapes instead of the clouds?" she asked.

"Yeah" Sun confirmed.

"You worded that really weirdly, but I get exactly what you mean."

"Yeah well... I once knew this kid in my class right? Well... he was telling me about how... how deep he was, about how he saw the blue in between... like as if he was seeing something hidden, something deep... and everyone else were shallow sheep right? This asshole... I mean... just because I eat my chicken nuggets inside out doesn't make me... make me special, it just means I have preference to the skin over the meat... pretentious asshat..." On and on Sun ranted, perpetually interrupted by the necessity to breathe. Blake listened no matter how mundane or queer his topic veered.

Occasionally the wounded girl opened her eyes and looked around, every instance bearing the same results of nothing. Nothing except for the last time of course.

Still diligently dragging the sled, Sun's head drooped low as he watched the dust kick up underneath his feet. "...and she asked me, 'what's 6 minus 2?'... I told her... '5:58'... she didn't think it was funny..."

"Sun? What's 1 minus 60?" Blake asked.

"Negative 59— oh wait, 12 o'clock, why?"

"Look at your 12."

Sun had just pulled them over a slight rise in elevation, giving them a local vantage point that revealed a town half a mile away from them. Rising his head to the sight of a true resting point restored his sanity and coherency to him, and a well needed burst of energy. "Ha ha ha! Just another ten minutes and I'm ready to sleep!"

As it was, the sun was kissing the horizon by the time they reached the busy little town. Before he could pull them completely though, a faunus woman with antlers met them just on the edge armed with a basic curved sword, sheathed thankfully. "Hey there stranger," greeted the woman, genuinely friendly, but as she looked behind Sun, she added "strangers," noting Blake.

The monkey boy coughed, then replied "howdy." He ran his hand across his face, a smear of wet dirt coloring his forehead and nose.

"You here to recruit into the White Fang?" she asked, eyeing either Sun's weapon upon his hip or his tail.

"What? No, we're running away from Vale actually..." he answered without tact or thought. He wish he had though, as it was only now he paid attention to the rest of the town. White Fang uniforms being handed out, recruitment posters, cracked open crates of dust and weapons, and trucks. Angry that he missed the obvious, he definitely caught the detail of the woman's hand moving to rest on her weapon.

"Oh, you're from Vale are you?" Traces of doubt in her voice made Sun feel weak. He couldn't fight her or the rest of the town in his state, or for that matter, he probably couldn't take the whole town in top condition. Maybe. He needed to take back his words.

"Oh! Are we here to recruit into the— oh, I thought you meant that we were recruiting you, I'm sorry, yes, we want to join you guys," he spoke apologetically, wiping his sweaty brow again. "I've just been walking for a day now, I'm tired and weird, sorry..."

Her hand dropped from her weapon. Subtle. "Oh that's alright, it's understandable. Here, follow me, we'll set you up." She turned to head back, not waiting for Sun or Blake.

Blake lifted her head, and almost growling queried "what just happened?" Her mate broke into a silent but hysterical laughter which had an unnerving effect on her. "Sun?"

"I'm sorry, it just looks like you're going to be joining the White Fang again Blake, fun!"

This time, she did growl. "Sun!"

Something was wrong. Weiss only needed to feel her sister's first strike to know Winter had to have been sick to be so weak. Fighting in the cold cathedral like hallway, maneuvering in clothes made too tight for her, the younger heiress crossed her rapier to her right, sending Winter's line of attack off past the former's shoulder, and pressed forward to smash her opponent's face with her mace like guard, and backhanded her for good measure. Stumbling backwards and vision blurred, Winter reformed her wide stance. Anticipating a Dust attack of some sort, Weiss chambered her Myrtenaster so it was on the blue shielding dust. Winter charged forward instead, whipping her saber about like tendrils of wild wind given form. For the first few strikes, Weiss blocked them only for the blade to hit her arms and waist anyways, admittedly with less force, but changed strategy by dancing backwards, just out of Winter's range, and utilized her own, longer weapon to punish her sister.

Weiss knew for sure now that Winter was feverish. Her own stamina was always severely lacking, and her recent lung injury did not help the matter, but Winter was panting heavier than her, and was not fixing her range issue. Every time the older sister slashed or thrusted, Weiss danced inches away from the sharp tip, then returned a slap to Winter's face in her opening. Had Ruby not extended her blade, she would be able to do this, but even so, Winter seemed to be letting it happen. Though Weiss was the one being pushed back, Winter was the one who was taking slash after slash after slash.

Growing tired, Weiss cast a quick ice dart spell, five sigils manifesting behind her and shooting out and past Winter. Falling for the basic bait, the saber user lunged forward with a potentially devastating stabbing motion. Utilizing the space between the Myrtenaster's Dust chambers and bladed guard, Weiss caught her sisters weapon like a sword going into a sheathe and wrenched the weapon from Winter's hand. Then she head butted the off balance fencer. The five ice missiles turned around in a synchronized fashion and hit Winter squarely in the back, launching her forward into Weiss, whom pulled a high kick into a backflip cartwheel, striking a pose as she watched her sister fall from the air like a defeated bird.

Hobbling into a kneeling position, Winter shook feverishly, a small cut apparent underneath her chin where Weiss had just kicked her. Panting heavily herself, Weiss whispered "I'm sorry", then removing the saber from Myrtenaster, used the round guard to deck Winter back to the ground where she moaned in pain.

Mr. Schnee began his slow clap, though disappointment was clearly written in his features. "Well done, well done, but I don't remember you being taught to fight so... brutish like." He almost spat the last words out.

"Fuck you dad!" Weiss shouted furiously.

"And I certainly didn't teach you to talk like that!" he shouted back, just as angry.

Weiss stabbed the ground with Winter's saber, sparks spraying the ground as she continued "you bring me back here and I'm thinking maybe we could make up or something, but the first thing you have me do is fight my sister!? Who has a fever!? Who does that father? Hmm!? Also, before I forget, I don't know who you had make these clothes, but I'm not 15 anymore!" She threw her Atlesian coat to the floor, a carbon copy to Winter's except much too small for Weiss. Much to her own dismay, she found herself stripping Winter of her coat and putting her arms through the sleeves. Being a fair bit too big, Weiss would have to have it tailored eventually.

"And I didn't teach you to steal." A sigh. "I knew the common folk would be a bad influence on you." His disgust was palpable.

His daughter however turned her back on him. "I'm astounded you still have such a archaic mindset father, but I don't care. You decided I wasn't doing things your way enough and so you abandoned me, you left me to hang when I needed help the most." Her left hand traced her stomach up to where she was stabbed, fingers clenching at the fabric and faint pain still there. "I have a family who does care about me beyond me just being a pawn to extend their legacy." Two high heeled feet began to carry her off, clicks and clops echoing in her wake.

"Where are you going?" he asked sounding disinterested.

"Home. Tell Winter I'm sorry, and tell mother I said hi."

Inside one of the many nondescript tents, Ruby sat in her bra and underwear upon a fancy chair, the medical examiner of advanced years crossing off check box after check box of questions preceded by Ruby's answers. "Do you have any allergies?" he would ask, smiling to himself, Ruby would tell him "no," and he would mark it so. Every time he flipped a page, he stared off at the wall for a dozen seconds, only continuing when Ruby cleared her throat.

Grabbing a wooden dowel from a glass jar, he motioned for her to open her mouth, flashing a mini light to search for any irregularities. With no forewarning, the man started talking, comfortable with the situation unlike Ruby. "You know, when my wife was your age, heh, we weren't married yet, but, her mouth was always red and raw because, heh heh, whenever we were in the car, she would sing at the top of her lungs, she was so into it when she did. You know the band 'Backroom Blasters'?" The girl nodded her head yes, her mouth still occupied. "Yeah, that was her favorite to belt, and I was so embarrassed when she did..." his smile widened while he removed the dowel and made foot notes on his notepad.

"Why?" Ruby asked, curious.

He chuckled. "Because, ha ha, she always had the windows open, and at intersections on busy, sunny days, ah man, the looks we got from people." He held back a laugh, but Ruby let out hers.

"Sounds like fun" she offered.

He put a cold stethoscope to her chest, Ruby shivering in turn, and he remained quiet for what Ruby assumed was a empirical minute. "Cops pulled us over once. They said we were bothering people. Hmm. They weren't wrong." Another note on his examination sheet. "I'm sure you haven't noticed, but you appear to be starving. You should eat."

Ruby appreciated the sarcasm. "I think they wanted to keep me weak." It made sense. A prisoner can't defend themselves if they're in too much pain or don't have the energy.

The doctor crossed the tent to a sack from where he extracted a unopened roll of salami. Picking up a surgical knife, he started cutting out slices and piling them onto a paper towel. "You have some ribs that need to be realigned too. Those bruises tell me it'll just be easier to put you under when we do it. Say, have you ever tried a steamed pastrami sandwich?"

"No sir." Gracefully accepting the towel full of meat and cheese, she promptly stuffed the food into her face.

"A properly made pastrami sandwich is to die for, I'm not kidding you. You can't cook the meat, otherwise it's not the same, you gotta heat it up in a warmed pot of its own juices and butter. The pickles have to be right too; very vinegar-y, I don't know how many sandwiches I've had were ruined by pickles more akin to cucumbers." He stood up an eyesight chart very carefully distanced from where Ruby sat.

"I wouldn't know" her jaw worked, sound muffled by mushed food churning viciously.

"Alright, so, with both eyes, can you read the letters from the top row down?" he asked politely. The one eyed girl looked at him in confusion. He laughed. "I'm kidding. Just read the letters as far as you can go..."

Doing as he asked, she read as many letters as she could before they got too fuzzy for her to even attempt guessing. 'Ahem'ing when she was done, he put away the eyesight test chart and took position behind Ruby. His hands felt her spine and shoulders, 'tsk'ing as he went.

"I'm going to need to realign your spine. Lay on your back. So if I heard right, they're putting you in first division second squad? Is that right?" A hot pack slipped underneath her before she laid down completely.

"Yeah. Front line category." Solemn tones poured from her mouth as easily as did air.

He grabbed her right hand wrist, fingers prodding at the muscles on her arm. "So you know all about those yahoos. I would tell you that you're in good hands and what not, that they'll look after you, but..." his fingers dug in between her arm muscles, pushing and persuading the different layers of muscle to shift and break from each other, separating the viscera that locked together through bad habits and over extension. Ruby had a high pain tolerance, but even so, she had to grind her teeth and curl her toes to keep from crying out loud. "...but, I know about you. You're in the papers you know. Some people are liking the sound of 'the Red Reaper Ruby' or 'Reaper Rose', cool titles in my opinion. Anyways, I know you can handle yourself, so I'll give you a helpful warning instead; you might have to share a shower with first squad at some point, and those boys have no respect for privacy. They've been given multiple warnings, but how are you supposed to punish people whose job it is to be head strong infantry men?" Letting go of her right arm, she felt immense relief and sudden lightness in her limb, as if someone took their foot off the brakes. Sitting her up, he removed the heat pack and put his fist underneath the small of her back and pushed her back down, several of the ligaments of her spine popping back into place. Ruby started giggling uncontrollably.

"That felt amazing" she confessed, hands opening and closing as she turned her body back and forth to feel the relief.

The doctor sat down, pulling a leg up to rest his notepad against. He wrote some more notes before speaking again. "So you're short sighted."

"What?" she asked flatly.

"Your eye is dented, no doubt from your extensive history of combat, so when we put you under to fix your ribs, we'll also reshape your eye lens so you'll be back to normal. This is all covered by the military by the way, so cheers. Also, you need to eat more, though I don't imagine that will be a problem for the next few weeks at least—"

"Uhm, sir, what's wrong?" Her abrupt question caused him to do a double take. Ruby thought it couldn't have been her imagination that he was crying, and when he looked at her somewhat shocked, it only made it clearer that he was.

Reaching to the side of his nose with a finger, he felt his skin soak up water, but did not react. "I'm sorry Ms. Rose, it's just..." he sighed. He stared at the wall again, this time for a rough minute, much longer than any response she could imagine needed. "My wife, been married 60 years, died yesterday. A heart attack." She stared at him calmly, but greatly off put by the revelation. "She's just... gone..."

It was completely random and entirely arbitrary for Ruby. She did not suspect anything like that to occur in a conversation, especially with someone who acted so oddly chipper before. Things usually made a sort of sense to her, combat, Grimm, negativity, mystery, pain, and so on, but in this circumstance, it was just a matter of someone else's personal life making an impression on her, and it had nothing to do with anything relevant to her. A natural death, a lengthy life, an astonishingly tranquil mourning husband, and regular business. Ruby couldn't even say she was sorry for him. She was, but the feeling wasn't strong enough to justify the words being spoken. Apparently, the doctor would rather move things along as well.

"Anyways, with a large pool of organ donors as of late, we're also going to do an eye transplant for you during the surgery tomorrow, so cheers."

"What?"

-End Chapter 1-

So I did some math. Assuming Remnant uses 24 time zones (and the wiki map is inaccurate), and that Remnant has a circumference of about 24,900 miles around the equator (like earth), I slapped my ruler against my computer screen and figured that an inch and 5/16 was three time zones, or about 300 miles, and it took roughly four lengths of that to clear the north of Vale, the north of Mistral, and make it down to central Mistral. So for simplicity's sake, that's 1200 miles, or 1050 nautical miles. With 7 days and a little extra bit of travel, and a generous but not impossible knot speed of 35 (40 miles per hour, and by the way, we have boats that go 45 knots), that means that if they sailed top speed every day, they would only have needed to sail 4.8 hours each day to make it to Mistral. What did they do in that spare time then? Sail half speed to conserve fuel, leaving 14 hours. Still too much? Sailing close to shore will also bring down the speed half once more, so that any obstacles don't obliterate the hull, taking away more hours, and there is a fair bit of shore between Vale and Mistral. And hey, it's a fishing boat, they need to catch fish to make a profit and get returns on the fuel they used. So for anyone wondering, don't worry, like always, I did the math.

*Some notes;

-I guess I never put much attention to it, but Ruby's hair is longer now. Not that long, not like the others, it's just that everyone's hair continues to grow as hair tends to do. Jaune had his cut in the last story, and you can imply the others might put a little effort every now and then to trim it, but Ruby and as you could imagine Yang have let it grow.

-I made a mistake on Loraine's part, sorry, during the masquerade arc, I said she was apart of team ANVL and her partner was named Victor, but never recorded it in my notes, and as I finished this chapter I realized I made another team and put her and Victor (under another name) into it. So, oops. Retcon, I'll eventually go back and change ANVL to BLNK (team Blink and you'll miss em') in the masquerade arc, but yeah...

-For those of you who read Taboo Sparring, I will reuse the Arc family names, the few I made up, so the oldest sister is Enora, the youngest is Yesfir, one set of twins younger than Jaune being Clarissa and Carolynn, and the remaining three I don't even know.

-Salami is meat and cheese squeezed together. It keeps for a very long time.