To Be A Huntsman Chapter 2

Well, here's Chapter 2. A little later than I hoped for, but I've been busy lately. Warning you ahead of time, this chapter contains scenes of children bullying other children. I found it difficult to write, but it is necessary for the story.

Again, I don't own anything but my OCs and the situations I put them through. RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth, and any music is owned by whoever it happens to be owned by.

Growing Up Faunus

The late afternoon sun shone through brilliant red and orange leavesthat decorated the trees dotting the small playground near Saint Oum's Orphanage. Its gentle rays offered light, but only sparse heat to warm the late autumn day. Pure laughter filled the crisp air as children ran and climbed over once brightly colored playground equipment, long faded from exposure to the sun over the many years it had graced the park.

One child, however, sat separate from the rest of the group at the base of one of the stout oak trees located at the very edge of the park. Like the other orphans, he was dressed in worn but still serviceable clothing. He wore a plain dark blue shirt and dark tan pants with cargo pockets that were slightly too long for his short legs. The bottom cuffs were caught below the heel of his battered black sneakers, worn from use throughout the years and slightly too small for the growing boy. The footwear was obviously second or third hand but was well-maintained, if a bit discolored. A faded, slightly ragged black bandanna tied around his upper right arm completed his outfit.

The boy edged his way around the trunk of the tree, hoping to escape the watchful eyes of the four orphanage workers who had been unlucky enough to draw the short straw that morning and became the assigned chaperones for their rambunctious charges. Once he was certain he was safely outside the caretakers' purview, he brushed his shaggy hair out of his face, mindful as ever of the gold fox ears that adorned the top of his head. He took pains to keep his ears folded down where they might be lost in the thick golden mane he called his hair. He even refused to let any of the matrons or other orphanage workers cut it any shorter than its current length, which rested just above being unmanageable. Conway sighed softly. He really should try and find a hat or something more permanent than keeping his ears down all the time. It hurt after a while. He wasn't certain that a hat would be much better, but at least with one he wouldn't strain his ear muscles as much. Now, however, he elected to let his ears perk up. After all, there was no one around to see and make fun of them.

A slight gust of wind that swirled the fallen leaves upward in front of him brought the young fox Faunus out of his inner musing. Grass-green eyes glanced around furtively before their owner pulled a flute from under his too big shirt. The instrument was a simple thing, made of bamboo with seven holes spaced a bit too far apart for his small hands to completely reach. This was a source of endless frustration to the young boy, despite assurances that he would grow into the instrument. Its length was smudged with his small fingerprints and the larger ones of his teacher.

Conway knew that Wisteria and Rose, as well as some of the other, less pleasant workers, would not be happy if they found out he had taken the flute out of the orphanage. The deer Faunus had given it to him for his sixth birthday after she found him playing with it in her room. It had been nearly two years since the caretaker had found the then five-year-old Conway in her room with the flute in his hands. He had been doing his level best to use the instrument to play a simple tune that he had taken to whistling. With a shake of her head, Wisteria had just sat down next to him and taught him how to hold the flute properly, as well as how to play the notes to his song correctly. Conway smiled at the memory of that lesson, the first of many that the two had shared.

Turning the flute over in his hands, Conway savored the smooth feeling of the worn bamboo. Giving the flute an experimental twirl, he enjoyed the sound the instrument made as it spun. It made him feel as though nothing else in the world mattered, especially the loneliness that gnawed inside of his heart. Ever since the only other Faunus child in the orphanage had been adopted by a family that lived outside of Vale's borders, Conway was seen as the anomaly among the 'normal' children at the orphanage. As such, the other children tended to leave him alone because he was a Faunus, and therefore, according to the more vocal among them, a freak.

He hated that word. At least, he hated it as much as any child could hate something. He hated how it made him feel he was worth less than the human children, and he hated how something as simple as being different could lead to such open scorn. All he wanted, all he yearned for, was someone, anyone, his own age to simply listen. Maybe then they would see that they were not so different after all. He shook his head, dispelling the darker thoughts that swirled viciously through his mind. That was neither here nor now, and it was pointless to dwell on past hurts and scars. He brought the flute up to his lips and gently blew on the top hole. His fingers smoothly flowed through a series of well-practiced motions, dancing lightly over the lower holes. The little fox Faunus closed his eyes reflexively and quickly lost himself in the bright, happy tune he had played hundreds of times before.

He must have sat there for at least an hour, under the stately maple tree and moved his fingers in a rhythm that no one else seemed to hear. He had long since exhausted all of the traditionally composed music that he knew, and now simply played what felt right to him. Others might have called the resulting sound discordant, but to Conway's ears, it was beautiful.

Conway was so focused on making his music that he didn't notice the four older children approaching his tree until one of them stepped on a dry twig that broke with a sharp snap. The young Faunus abruptly stopped playing and huddled against the tree's broad trunk. His tail wrapped itself around his ankles as tightly as he could, for all the good he knew it wouldn't do, and his fox ears drooped back down to hide in his thick hair. He carefully clutched his flute to his chest protectively, hoping against hope that the boys would simply leave him alone today.

These four boys who had managed to sneak up on him were the most obnoxious bullies ever to grace the small community of Patch Island, and it seemed they had made it their personal mission to make his life miserable. Anything from harassing him whenever they caught him outside the safety of the orphanage, to dragging him into the woods and leaving him to find his own way out, or just plain ganging up on him and beating the daylights out of him, these four had done it all. No amount of punishment would deter them for long, and they always found new ways to torment him, as well as any other children they deemed 'worthy' of their attention, especially his fellow orphans. They had even caused several of the younger wards of St. Oum's to be sent to the hospital on three separate occasions.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here, boys?" Conway's eyes narrowed in response to Daryl Redbrand's mocking query. Daryl was the strongest of the four bullies, and by that logic, their enforcer. Though he was, by far, not the smartest of the bunch. He was a stocky boy of around twelve years of age, with dark brown hair and light blue eyes. His father was an officer of the Patch Police Department, which went a long way towards explaining Daryl's contempt of the law. He was simply acting out in response to his father's disciplinarian methods, and because virtually the only times he got to see his father was when he did something wrong.

"Looks like a lost little fox kit," Zephyr Seabreeze, leader of the four bullies, stated as he moved in on Conway's left side. Zephyr was taller than Daryl by a good four inches, and older by several months, but he was leaner of build. He was usually the one who came up with the more inventive 'games' that the troublesome boys would coerce others into 'playing' with them, such as, 'pin a tail on the Fox,' or 'Huntsmen and Grimm,' only the 'Grimm' were usually unable to fight back by virtue of being either tied up or otherwise incapacitated. The slender brunette had a quickly-developing vicious streak approximately a mile wide and it only grew as time went on. Zephyr was the nephew of a junior member of the Vale Council, one Sirocco Seabreeze, and as such, enjoyed a high degree of protection from local law enforcement. Conway glanced at the third boy just in time to see him start talking.

"Playing with his mummy's flute, oh wait, I forgot, you don't have a mummy, do you, little fox?" That was Axle Spark, son of a weapons merchant who had moved to Patch four years prior, and had become fast friends with Daryl and Zephyr. Conway gritted his teeth in suppressed anger as his face flushed with humiliation and shame at Axle's hurtful comment. He could feel tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes, but he angrily blinked them away. The fox Faunus refused to cry from such little provocation anymore, knowing that such a reaction was what the bullies wanted. He tried to ignore them, like Wisteria had always told him to do when someone made him feel bad with their words.

'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me…'

Kiroi Kumo, toady extraordinaire, who mostly stayed to the sidelines and rarely directly took part in any of the other three's activities, kept a wary eye on the rest of the playground, despite most of the other children having left already with their respective chaperones. Conway privately thought that Kiroi only stayed with the other three out of a justifiable fear that they would turn their attention to him if he spoke out against their actions. Though Conway could understand Kiroi's self-interest, it was of little comfort to the favored victim.

Conway clutched his most precious possession tightly against his chest, "Please just leave me alone." He knew this was the reason Wisteria and Rose had told him to never take his flute out of the orphanage grounds, and was beginning to really regret disobeying them.

Conway was too distracted by his own thoughts to notice Daryl's incoming fist until it was too late to do anything but flinch. Stars exploded in his vision as he was sent sprawling, his tail flared out behind him and his hands opened on reflex, sending his flute spiraling to the ground. The slender piece of bamboo hit the mulch, bounced twice, and landed several feet away. Conway tried to scramble after it, but he was stopped by a heavy foot slamming down on his tail. He couldn't help but let out a yelp of pain when Daryl pressed down harder with the toe of his shoe. Thankfully, he wasn't wearing his favored hiking boots today, Conway thought, before a fresh spike of pain burst from his tail. What most people don't know about Faunus is that their animal features contain many more nerves than those found on their animal counterparts. Most researchers agree that this is because most Faunus use their animal appendages for more and different purposes than their animal contemporaries, thus the appendages in question require a greater degree of flexibility and a heightened sense of touch. Whatever the reason, suffice to say that stepping on a Faunus' tail caused them a great deal of pain.

Conway redoubled his efforts to escape when he saw Zephyr pick up his flute. The older boy held the slender piece of varnished bamboo with both hands as he looked down at him, watching him struggle in turns to shift Daryl's foot off of his tail or to get his beloved flute back.

"Give it back!" Conway begged, "Please don't break it!" his protests were quickly halted in favor of breathing by a sharp kick to his ribs, courtesy of Axle. Conway felt something crack when the older boy's pointed shoe hit his ribs. Each gasp was an exercise in pain as Conway desperately tried to keep from screaming.

"Oh, what's that? You want me to break it? Now why would you want me to do a mean thing like that, little fox-boy? Doesn't it belong to one of those other filthy Faunus that works at that orphanage?" Zephyr asked, releasing the flute with one hand to tap his chin with one finger. "I thought you animals stuck together more than that. Guess I was wrong."

Before Conway could make more than a single noise of protest, Zephyr took hold of the flute with both hands again and with a swift jerk, broke the instrument over his knee. It made a sickening cracking noise as the fox Faunus's eyes widened in disbelief and pure grief.

Conway sobbed, tears finally escaping his eyes. "Why? Why would you do that!" he demanded in a broken voice, his struggles having all but stopped when he saw his most precious possession broken, despite the growing pressure on his tail.

"The question isn't why, freak, it's why not?" Zephyr sneered condescendingly, "Do you really think we'll get any real punishment for this? Hell, far as most of the humans on this island are concerned, the Faunus can all go and…"

While Zephyr was delivering his hateful tirade, Daryl ground his shoe further into the smaller boy's tail. The fox Faunus cried out in agony when he felt something give in his tail with a harsh crack. As he gritted his teeth and screamed, Conway felt a rush of something, some warm, unknown energy surge through his body. Instinct led him to release the burning rush of force, so he wrestled what felt like a large amount of power from his very core and released it. Whatever Zephyr was going to say next was brutally swept aside by a near solid wave of concussive force that burst from the tormented form of the sobbing Conway with a low boom, and threw all four of the other boys away. All five boys were showered with splinters and bark that were blasted from the tree that concealed them from the rest of the playground, and the tree itself lost all of its brilliant leaves in one fell swoop. The broken pieces of Wisteria's gift fell from Zephyr's hands just before he too was sent sprawling across the grass and into a prickly holly bush. Conway grabbed the flute, heedless of the thin splinters that stabbed into his hands and cradled the remains of what was once his most precious possession close to his chest, curling up into as tight a ball as he could while still sobbing. He was exhausted after releasing that power. His tail, now with a pronounced crimp, was wrapped around his waist. All that could be heard from him was sobbing and repeated pleas for his tormenters to go away and leave him alone.

The four other boys picked themselves up with some difficulty. Daryl struggled to his feet and nearly collapsed when he put his weight on an obviously sprained ankle. Axle, who got off the lightest with only a few scrapes, moved to support his larger friend, while Kiroi lay unconscious under a nearby tree, after having hit said tree.

Just desserts, like fate and karma, can be a bitch. And this had been a long time coming.

"What the hell was that?" Daryl asked aloud as he and Axle limped over to their leader and helped him out of the shrub. Both boys took hold of one of their leader's protruding legs and quickly pulled him back into open air.

"I dunno," Axle replied, "But whatever it was, that little fox freak did it."

"We should stop him from doing it again!" cried Zephyr. The three bullies who remained conscious limped closer to the curled form of their victim, but hesitated when they heard him whispering.

"Go… 'way… Leave … m'alone…"

"Sorry freak, but I'm afraid we can't do that," Zephyr began, little of his confidence lost since the sudden and painful introduction of his face to a holly bush. "If we let you go, who knows what innocent people you could use your power on. We'd be doing the world a favor if we just… put you down here and now." The tall boy drew a balisong with engraved metal grips from his pocket and spun it open while he carefully advanced. "Like a mad animal is meant to be."

"Leave me alone…"

Daryl, supported by Axle, grabbed Zephyr by the shoulder before the taller boy could get any closer and said, "Maybe we should just leave him alone for now, Zephyr. I mean we already hurt him enough for today…"

Zephyr rounded on his friend. "Don't tell me you actually feel sorry for this vermin, Daryl! Uncle Sirocco always told me that if you start something, you damn well better make sure you finish it! If you're too much of a coward to stay and finish what you started, fine! I'll just do it myself!"

Daryle glanced at Axle. The wiry boy shook his head, and the heavier boy turned back to their friend and said, "If that is what you're going to do, I can't stop you. But Axle and I will have no part in murder. That is going too far, and you know it Zephyr. Just walk away."

Zephyr growled in anger and gripped his knife harder. "Fine! But when I'm finished with him, you're next!" Before his now-former friends could respond, Zephyr shrugged off Daryl's hand and continued his walk to Conway. Daryl and Axle limped over to the unconscious form of Kiroi and, with no small difficulty due to Daryl's ankle, managed to pick him up and start carrying him away.

"Here foxy foxy, I've got a gift for you…."

"Leave… me… alone." Conway murmured, with increasing volume as Zephyr stalked closer.

Six feet.

"Leave… me alone."

Five feet.

"Leave me Alone!"

Four feet.

"Leave me ALONE!"

Conway's last cry was punctuated with another, smaller burst of force that blasted the bully clear off his feet and into the same tree that Kiroi had hit earlier. Thankfully, this blast had more direction than the first, and caused little more collateral damage than ruffling a few leaves. Zephyr hit the trunk awkwardly with his right arm and slid down to the ground clutching his elbow. The joint had swollen to nearly twice its original size. Conway didn't claim to be an expert on the matter, but he immediately suspected that the joint was merely sprained or dislocated and not broken. Zephyr's balisong had fallen from his grip in the confusion, the sharp blade carved a gash through Conway's left fox ear as the Faunus had uncurled when he released the second burst. Shakily getting to his feet, Conway's left hand clutched the bleeding wound. Crimson blood stained his golden hair and blue shirt with thin rivulets of red.

With hands that shook with exhaustion, Conway reverently placed the broken parts of his flute on the ground. Wincing from the thin splinters of bamboo that stabbed his hands, he picked up Zephyr's discarded butterfly knife and staggered a few steps toward the whimpering bully with a vengeful look in his dull grass-green eyes. Zephyr whimpered in pain and fear when he saw his former victim's mouth set into a grim line as he inevitably stalked forward, each step bringing more and more terror to the other boy.

"Please, stop, I didn't mean it! It was just a joke! Please don't hurt me!" Zephyr pleaded while he inched away as fast as his broken arm allowed. He looked into the younger boy's eyes and was shaken to find no mercy or forgiveness there, only cold anger and vindictive fury. They were the eyes of a person who had been pushed too far, which, Zephyr belatedly realized, perfectly described the little Faunus currently holding his knife.

Conway stopped for a moment, seemingly considering his former tormentor's request before asking in a quiet voice that sent shivers down Zephyr's spine, "How many times did I ask you to stop, and you never did?" His entire body was hunched over, as if tensing to spring, "How many times did I beg you and your friends not to hurt me, only for you to do it anyway? Huh?" Conway practically snarled, "How! Many! TIMES! And now you have the nerve to claim it was all a joke!" He let out a dry laugh that held no humor, "What about those times you put those other kids in the hospital? Were those jokes too? No. You don't get to say that! Not after everything you've done." Conway ignored Zephyr's terrified squeak and drew his arm back, "You'll never hurt me, or anyone else, ever again!" The fox Faunus lunged forward, his borrowed knife leading the way.

Time seemed to slow down as the knife approached Zephyr's chest. Conway was so close to his unlooked-for revenge, he could practically taste it. However, when the knife was less than four inches from its target, Conway was surprised to see and feel a hand, much larger than his own or Zephyr's, clamped firmly around his outstretched wrist. That hand, predictably, was attached to an arm which in turn was connected to a man. He had a narrow face with a hooked nose and fierce yellow eyes that most would call handsome were it not for the wide, angry-looking scar that marred his right cheek just beside his eye. If he weren't crouched down, Conway would say that he was fairly tall. He was wearing a dark gray coat with red cuffs and shoulders over a lighter gray shirt that hung rather loosely from his narrow shoulders. Conway caught a glimpse of white metal bracelets beneath the coat's sleeves. A flame-red shemagh was loosely wrapped around his neck, and his legs were clad in a pair of sturdy-looking blue jeans that were tucked into a well-worn pair of brown leather boots. A silver necklace in the shape of a pair of eagle feathers hung around his neck. A black hat with a wide brim and a neck string that rested atop his feathery-looking white hair completed his outfit. Conway glanced at the man's waist and saw two handles, one on each hip, but couldn't quite make out the weapons themselves in the fading light, beyond the fact that they were vaguely L-shaped with an extra protrusion that extended below the shorter leg of the L. The man allowed the two boys to study him for a few moments before he spoke.

"You don't want to do that, kit," Conway stared at him incredulously; his arm relaxed and fell to his side, still loosely holding the knife. Normally he hated when people called him kit, but coming from this man, it felt more like a term of endearment than the typical insult. "It might feel good to get him back for hurting you," The man continued softly, "But in the end, all that does is prove to everyone that you, and by extension, your species, are no better than people like him." As the man spoke, he carefully took the open knife from Conway's hand and gingerly folded it shut before handing it back to the fox Faunus. It went without saying that Zephyr wouldn't be getting it back.

The man turned his fierce yellow eyes to Zephyr's cowering form. "And you. Never hurt this boy again. Don't ever even go near him again. And tell your little friends too. Are we clear?"

Conway saw Zephyr's eyes flared with anger, apparently briefly forgetting about his badly sprained arm, which Conway knew from experience was almost as painful as his own broken tail, because the older boy snapped back at the man without much fear. "How dare you order me around! Do you have any idea who you're talking too? I am Zephyr Seabreeze, the nephew of Sirocco Seabreeze, one of the members of the Vale Council!"

The man's features adopted an angry scowl at Zephyr's words, his yellow eyes flashed with a tumultuous maelstrom of pent up aggression that emitted a nearly visible golden glow that burned into the bully's brown orbs with promises of pain should his will not be carried out. Conway fought the urge to run, hide, and curl up into a ball again, not necessarily in that order when he felt the Huntsman's nearly tangible fury. The bully barely had time to squeak in terror before the man stood up, then grabbed him by the front of his jacket and hoisted him bodily off the ground with the kind of strength normally reserved for dedicated bodybuilders or mothers lifting fallen trees off of children.

Conway's heart stopped for an infinite moment when the suddenly much scarier man turned to look at him. His heart calmed down when the man pulled out a folded white handkerchief and handed it to him before returning his attention to the older boy struggling in his grasp. "Use this to stop the bleeding kit, this won't take long." Conway nodded hesitantly and took the proffered square of fabric. He gingerly pressed it against the bleeding slice on his ear, stoically ignoring the fresh pain that action brought while he concentrated on making himself as small as possible, lest he gain this stranger's ire. Almost without thinking, he slipped Zephyr's balisong into his pocket. Zephyr had at this point started to cry, having apparently finally come to the conclusion that this was a situation that his uncle couldn't get him out of.

With a slight growl that sounded more like a soft angry screech, the man said, "Now you listen to me, boy. I don't care who your uncle is, and even if I did, then do you honestly think he would be proud to call you his nephew? I've heard of you and your little friends; and I have to say, I've never seen a worse group of delinquents in the entirety of Vale. And trust me; I've seen a lot of delinquents in my time. If your uncle wants to cause trouble, tell him that Ákos Altair, first class Huntsman and former leader of Team ASPN sends his regards. Now get out of my sight before I get really angry."

Conway stifled a gasp when he heard Ákos declare his name and team allegiance, just before the Huntsman punctuated his last remark by tossing the injured boy away from him. Team ASPN had been made up of four of the skilled Huntsmen and Huntresses from the previous generation, next to the equally renowned Team GATE that had graduated at the same time. Wisteria and Rose had told him and the other orphans stories about the near-legendary Teams that had single-handedly bested several hundred Grimm during the defense of one of Vale's smaller settlements, including two previously undiscovered species and a trio of Ancient Grimm.

Zephyr landed in an undignified heap several feet away. He scrambled to his feet and took off running; heedless of the holly bush that scratched him again as he ran past into the network of streetlight-lit roads. The only thought that filled his mind was the insistent need to escape from the tall man.

Conway watched Zephyr run away with a sense of grim satisfaction, then looked back at Ákos with caution in his eyes as he held the reddening cloth up to his hurt ear. "Good riddance," The tall man huffed, before turning his attention back to the young Faunus who was staring at him. Conway cautiously backed up a pace or two; after all, if the Huntsman was willing to hurt a human child, what were the odds that he wouldn't hurt a Faunus too?

Ákos crouched down to Conway'slevel, but stayed a respectful distance away from the skittish young Faunus. "Easy, kit. I'm not going to hurt you. Can I take a look at your ear? I'm no healer, but I know a thing or two about patching up injuries. Comes with the territory of being a team leader, ya'know? Gotta know enough to take care of your team if your medic is down. That's happened to my team more times that I'd like to admit, but then again... Sienna might not have been much of a fighter, but she was a dam- uh, darn good medic."

Conway backed up slightly more when Ákos started talking. He wanted to run, to hide, to be somewhere safe, somewhere that his ear didn't hurt, but his mind was hazy from the significant pain that wracked his young form. He wanted to let the older man help him, but… "How can I trust you? Even though you made him leave me alone, Zephyr's got friends that are happy to hurt me because I'm a Faunus..."

"You mean those three boys I saw limping away from the park a few minutes ago? I was passing through when I heard what you did to that boy." Ákos remarked. Conway's sharp eyes watched the Huntsman as he surreptitiously checked his pockets. "I seriously doubt any of them will pick a fight with you from now on. I'm kinda impressed, actually. I haven't seen many people, Human or Faunus, unlock their Aura as young as you, and much less discover their Semblance at the same time." Ákos pulled a small bundle from one of his cargo pockets before he continued, "Ah, there it is. Knew I had some first aid stuff somewhere." The Huntsman paused for a moment, and then added, "And why would I want to hurt you for being a Faunus when I am one myself?"

Conway cocked his head to the left, despite the twinge of pain that shot through his head from his sliced ear. Conway ignored the feeling for now; there were more important things to think about right now. "Aura? Semblance? What are those?" He asked, before his mind registered Ákos' last comment, "Wait a second…. You're a Faunus too?" Suspicion etched itself across his features, "You don't look like one."

Ákos tipped his hat at Conway, "Ákos Altair, Senior Huntsman, former leader of Team ASPN, and falcon Faunus, at your service, kit. We avian Faunus tend to have an easier time with racism from humans, except for those fortunate enough to be born with wings." Ákos quickly glanced over his shoulder, and Conway saw something unrecognizable flash through the older Faunus' eyes, "No one can really tell that we're Faunus, unless we tell them or they take the time to notice. All I've got now is the eyes and feather hair." The Huntsman gestured at his long hair. Conway looked at the white locks and saw that what he had thought was hair was actually a thick collection of fine, downy feathers. "Let me tell you, it makes getting a haircut an exercise in pain. Usually I just molt." Conway noticed Ákos glance up at his ear, but before he could make any comments, he suddenly felt himself losing his balance.

"Kit, I promise I'll answer all your questions but first, please let me help you." Ákos pleaded, his golden eyes were alight with concern as Conway, his body beginning to tremble from exhaustion, swayed before he toppled over completely. Conway squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for impact, but instead he found himself caught by two wiry arms that gently laid him down, mindful of his painfully crimped tail. Conway couldn't repress the pained whimper that rose from the back of his throat when he felt a hand gently take hold of his damaged appendage as it feebly twitched.

Conway was dimly aware of Ákos' voice as the Huntsman smoothed out his tail fur. "This is going to hurt a bit, please just bear with me. It'll feel better when I'm done."

Before Conway could protest, he felt a strange heat, beyond that of the Huntsman's hand, flow through his tail, directly on the break. It was a gentle, soothing heat that felt vaguely like sunlight. Conway could feel the small bones in his tail shift and he winced slightly when there was a brief flash of pain as they knit together. The warm energy ceased, and Conway cautiously opened his eyes and looked at his tail. A happy smile lit up his normally somber features as he watched his tail sway back and forth without any pain. Before he could say anything, Conway felt the same warmth flow over his left fox ear for a moment before the appendage was carefully wrapped with a bandage.

"Thank you…" The fox whispered while Ákos gently wrapped the formerly broken section of Conway's tail with another bandage. Ákos carefully took hold of Conway's hands and started to pick the bamboo slivers out with a small pair of tweezers.

"You're welcome kit. Be careful with your tail for the next week or two. I used my Aura to help bolster your healing since you used so much of your Aura when you activated your Semblance, so those bones will be a bit more brittle than the others in your tail 'til they finish healing on their own. It looks like your Semblance uses a lot of Aura." Ákos stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Or maybe you just used it instinctively?"

"I just wanted them to go away and leave me alone," Conway yawned, exhausted by the stressful events of earlier.

"Sounds like a textbook case of instinctive activation…" Akos stroked his chin thoughtfully, looking at the small boy before him. "You see, in times of stress, a person's Aura can surface and act on it's own, usually manifesting as a protective field. For someone to force their Semblance to manifest at the same time as their first Aura activation is pretty rare."

"You keep saying 'Aura' and 'Semblance,' but what are they?" Conway asked curiously, cocking his head to the side while ignoring the niggling feeling of exhaustion that crept through his limbs. This was far more interesting then exhaustion, and who knew when he would get another chance to talk to a Huntsman in person.

Ákos cupped his chin with the index finger and thumb on his right hand, "Hmm. Let's see, the best way to describe Aura… It's sort of… a kind of energy produced by all life that has a 'soul,' unlike the creatures of Grimm that you may have heard of," Conway nodded his head, following along, "It can protect you from things that try to hurt you, and with enough practice, or in a desperate enough situation, it can be used to attack as well. Everyone who uses Aura has a special ability that no one else has, called a Semblance. Some people think that a person's Semblance is directly tied to their deepest desire. For example, my Semblance is called Repulsion, and it allows me to push things away from me."

"Then what's mine?" Conway interrupted impatiently, the excitement written over his features was a welcome change from his earlier fear and pain.

Akos chuckled, a deep hearty sound before ruffling the younger Faunus's hair gently, ignoring his annoyed squawk, "Well, based on what I observed, your Semblance could be something like Force or Sound. However, I personally think it is Sound, considering the affinity you seem to have for music, if that broken flute is anything to go by." He pointed at the shards, gesturing at them as though they were of great importance. Which they were to the young kit in front of him.

Conway's excitement faltered at the mention of his destroyed instrument, and he glanced down at the splintered halves of his beloved flute where he had dropped them earlier. Ákos seemed to notice his faux pas almost immediately, and said, "Ah… Dust." He ran his hand over his face in contrition, "Sorry kit. I should have realized that it was yours," The Huntsman said apologetically before patting his pockets, apparently looking for something again. Conway barely paid any attention to the older Faunus. He was still too wrapped up in the loss of his flute, and his near murdering of one Zephyr Seabreeze. That was a memory that would not soon fade.

Silence enveloped the pair before, "It was my first birthday present…" Conway whispered.

The younger Faunus was distracted from his growing sadness by a short cry of triumph from Ákos. The blond glanced up at his protector with a quizzical look on his face, and saw the older man holding a small, grey plastic card with the number 200 stamped on each corner and a capital L with two lines passing through its center in the middle. Currency. Ákos pressed the Lien card into Conway's hands and gently folded the boy's fingers around it.

"Here, take this, kit. Get yourself a new flute, or whatever you want with it."

Dumbfounded by Ákos' display of generosity, Conway didn't know what to do. The orphanage never had enough left over for allowances for the children in its care, so Conway had never had any experience with currency before. He'd never even seen that much money in one place before. "I can't take this, it's too much…" He tried to push the card back into the older Faunus' hands, but he was forestalled by the Huntsman holding up a hand in an unmistakable gesture of refusal.

"It's yours, kit. I won't take it back. If you don't want it, then throw it away."

"Oh... OK... Thank you," Conway murmured then slipped the card into his pocket.

The falcon Faunus's eyes softened, "You're welcome, kit. I'm just sorry I didn't get here in time to stop them from breaking your flute." Ákos pulled a small pocket watch from an interior coat pocket and glanced at the time before he continued, "It's getting late. Where do you live, kit? I'll take you there before I go."

Conway shuffled his feet nervously before he replied, "I live at Saint Oum's Orphanage, not too far from here." A panicked expression took over his features, "Oh no! What am I going to tell Wisteria and Rose about the flute?"

"Leave that to me, kit. Least I can do."

With uncharacteristic shyness, Conway glanced up, his bangs slightly covering his eyes. "Re-Really? You'd do that for me?

"Of course I would. We Faunus need to stick together and stand up for each other, because most of the time, no one else will. If I've got the strength, why not use it to look out for someone who needs it?"

"Does that mean Faunus just need someone to stand behind and believe in? Like an alpha?" Conway asked. Maybe Faunus were more like pack-minded animals than people realized? Conway's train of thought was interrupted by a lighthearted, chirpy laugh from Ákos.

"Nah, kit," The Huntsman began, "What you and all us Faunus need to do is get strong enough that no one like those four can ever push you around again. Then, when you've done that, you take that power and reputation and use it to protect others who need it. That is what it means to be a strong Faunus. Not just that, though. Having and using the strength to protect others is what it means to be a Huntsman." Ákos grinned and looked at the boy, "At least, that's how I've always thought of it."

The boy had fallen asleep leaning against the tree. The elder falcon Faunus stifled a chuckle and picked up the snoozing boy, shifting him so that Conway's head rested on his right shoulder.

"Ah well. Not all speeches are great, I guess. I'll have to tell him again later."

Author's Note:

Well. That was a tough scene to write. Contrary to some people's belief, I am not a monster, despite having portrayed one in a highschool stage production. Gotta say though, most of this scene was unplanned, and it turned out way darker than I intended it to. Thankfully, I think this will fit in better than I had planned. For anyone who might actually read this, Ákos is a Turkish name that literally means 'white falcon' and Altair can mean either 'bird' in Greek, or 'soaring one' in Arabic. His coat is inspired by Dante's from the newer DMC. If you have any questions, feel free to launch me a PM.

Let's see what happens next time in To Be A Huntsman, Chapter 3: School Days

Fun Fact#2: I am not a musician, but I have done a bit of research on instruments. For anyone curious, Conway's flute is based off of a Japanese flute called a shinobue.

Fun Fact #3: I have no idea what the currency looks like in the RWBYverse. Since I'm not sure what the exchange rate of Lien to Dollars would be, I'm just going to go with a 1:1 ratio. And because the only forms of Lien we see are the card things that Roman has or that Emerald stole in the Season 2 opener, I'm just going to make the assumption that paper currency is a thing of the past, and all lien only comes on either preloaded cards (like gift cards), or as something akin to a debit card.

Fun Fact #4: This is probably not going to be the standard chapter length.

Fun Fact #5: These are definitely going to be a thing.

Special thanks again to my ever patient beta reader, Alsc Petrelli Winchester Stark, who is currently sitting on another chair reading Supernatural Fun Facts out loud.

Thanks for reading! If you feel like it, please drop a review.

Edited 11/20/2016. Changed some names, did a bit of an overhaul on some grammar.