A/N: Takes place three years before RWBY Vol. 1.

"Olive" Trailer

The western region of Mistral was a territory densely populated with thick forests and murky swampland, the kind of place that would be home to the most unsavory of characters. Cutting through the sea of trees was the wide stretch of a dirt road that ran alongside the bogs. The morning sun was beginning to peek over the canopy, and the thin layer of tranquil mists were starting to roll over the footpath, meaning they had to be more cautious of where they stepped or else fall into the marsh. The vast wetlands that were silent only moments ago were slowly filled in by the echoed of repeated clopping and soft rattling.

Approaching from down the road and headed west through the swamps was a small caravan of five horses, a horse-drawn carriage made painted green and embroidered with golden vines, and a lone man that elected to walk alongside the carriage. The men riding the horses were dressed in heavy-looking black armor decorated with golden vine patterns, a sword strapped to their hips, and a sigil on their chest plates that marked their loyalty: a dove with an olive branch in its beak. The same sigil was marked on the carriage doors in golden. But the man walking alongside the carriage was different; he did not don any armor or use a horse for travel. He didn't need them. He was a Huntsman after all.

He was a tall and lean-looking man with eternally smug look on his face that reached to his wine-colored eyes. His hear was a spiked mess of black hair that showed slight signs of gray from age, and slight stubble that only served to make him look shabbier. And yet, despite his unkempt appearance, the man did know how to dress smartly: gray and white dress shirt with a long tail, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. Even his tattered red cloak looked handsome on him. And he certainly knew how to accessorize, wearing flashy silver rings on his right index and fourth finger and the silver cross necklace dangling from his neckline. He would clean up all right if he wasn't constantly drinking himself under the table.

Speaking of which, the scruffy old man reached for the flask in his pocket and knocked back a long swig of the burning liquor inside, not at all caring for the disapproving looks of the armored men. When he finally lowered the flask, he heard a soft sound coming from inside the carriage. It was a dainty yawn, and he could see the shadow of someone moving inside through the thin pull down curtain.

"Well, look who's up," said the old man, tapping the carriage door. "Got enough beauty sleep in there, princess?"

"Yes, it was most relaxing," said the voice of a soft-spoken woman. There was a lot of rustling inside; she was changing her clothes. "You must be very tired after staying up all night watching over me, Mr. Qrow. Are you sure you don't want to rest? I could ask the guards to pull over for a bit."

"Are you kidding, I could go a whole week without sleep," said Qrow cockily. "I actually did one time during a hunt when we were being chased by a pack of very stubborn Beowolves. Couldn't get a wink of sleep till my sister punched me out cold."

The woman inside giggled.

"By the way," said Qrow, leaning closer and lowering his voice so only she could hear. "While we were passing through town, I went and got one of those books you like to read. Figured you must be pretty bored; being a teenager stuck inside all day and night. You shoulda seen the look on the guy's face at the register. Hi-larious."

"Oh…thank you," said the woman shyly. "Do you think you can…slip it through the door? I don't want guards to know about it. Oum knows what would happen if word got back to my parents that I secretly purchase those types of literature."

Qrow gave a nonverbal response and subtly peeked over his shoulder. The two armored guards in the rear were scanning the swampland for potential attackers, the two men in front were laser focused on the path ahead, and the man driving the carriage looked close to falling asleep himself (Qrow knew who was getting a pay cut), but none of them were paying attention to him. Perfect timing. The old huntsman reached inside his tatter cloak and pulled out a thick book. The cover depicted of a woman dressed as a pirate dipping another woman in an elegant gown as the sea sprayed behind them with the title ("Love on the High Seas") written in cursive at the top. Qrow opened the carriage door a small bit and slipped the book through the crack before silently shutting it.

"Thank you, Mr. Qrow," said the woman appreciatively; Qrow hear the flipping of the pages.

"Any time, princess," said Qrow, smiling slightly. "And stop callin' me Mr. Qrow. Don't let the gray hairs fool ya; I'm not that old."

"Okay, but only if you call me Olive instead of princess," said Olive challengingly.

"Deal," Qrow accepted, taking another swig of liquor.

As they advanced further along the road, the fog became noticeably thicker, steady rising from the ankle to a full-blown cloud. The armored guards switched on the flashlights equipped into their armor's shoulders ("That's a handle feature" said Qrow) and pressed on. But while the guards might not have felt concerned about the sudden rise in fog – it was understandable considering west Mistral's climate – Qrow's brow was furrowed as he glared into the mist. The older Huntsman had corked his alcohol and tucked it away in his cloak. And when Qrow Branwen isn't drinking, there's usually a good reason to be concerned.

"Somethin' ain't right here," said Qrow suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" asked Olive; her book clapped shut.

"This fog…it's not normal," said Qrow, slowly checking the area.

"Isn't it just the morning mist?" said Olive curiously.

"Nah, this is something else," said Qrow. "There's something in the air. You might not see it right now, but some of the more experienced Huntsman can learn how to smell the aura in the air. It's a handy little trick that you pick up if you live long enough. And right now, I'm getting a huge whiff of aura all around us. Hmm, smells like beer. The cheap kind. Hey, everybody, if ya wanna keep you're heads, ya might wanna keep a watch out for the fog!"

"We're perfectly capable of handling ourselves," said the captain indignantly. "We don't need to take orders from a drunk – "

A shadow suddenly jumped from the fog and tackled the captain, carrying him into the mist; they heard his screams being carried away before the abruptly stopped. The convoy came to an immediate stop; the captain's horse reared back with fright before taking off into the miasma. The four remaining guards quickly unsheathed their swords, spinning in place and muttering quick, panicked sentences that Qrow couldn't – or more like didn't bother – understand. The experienced Huntsman slowly moved until his back was pressed against the carriage. He could feel Olive turning the knob and pushing to get out, but Qrow held the door shut.

"Qrow, what's happening?" asked Olive in a worried tone. "Is everyone all right?"

"Stay inside, Olive," warned Qrow. "It's too dangerous. Try not to – "

Two more screams from the rear of the carriage followed after, weakening in the distance, before they were ultimately silenced. Then another from the front, and then the carriage driver was taken as well, both of them silenced within seconds. Qrow grimaced, his hand tucked underneath his tattered cloak, slowly stepping away from the carriage out into the middle of the road; Olive had thankfully listened and stayed inside. The old Huntsman's scarlet eyes roamed around the fog, almost as if her were somehow able to see through the haze.

And then all of a sudden, Qrow Branwen spun on his heels, withdrawing his weapon (a single-edged great sword with a clockwork mechanism) and holding out the flat end to block the blade that had been aimed for his throat. The older huntsman pulled against his sword and threw the blade away; he heard a set of feet sliding against the ground. Qrow let out a furious yell, spun in a circle with his sword, and smashed the blade against the ground. The ground exploded underneath the huntsman and a large crater formed in the middle of the road; a powerful shock wave rippled around the spot, blowing away the fog like a fan. With no mist to hide behind, Qrow looked up at the face of the would-be assassin.

He was an older man, right around the same age as Qrow, though his homely appearance made Qrow look handsome by comparison. From the disheveled mess of shock-white hair, to the innumerable layers of dirt on his skin, to the multitude of stains on his clothing, and the pungent stench of stale beer permeated off him in wave. Even his weapons, two bracers with retractable blades, were covered in scratches, oil stains, and bits of dirt; the weapons also smelled like alcohol. This was a man who took no pride in himself, Qrow thought, shouldering his sword.

"Ya got some balls goin' after a Huntsman," said Qrow. "What'm I supposed to call ya? The walking distillery? The human trash bin? No, wait, I got it, muck man! Yeah, that sounds about right"

"Shut #$% up!" growled the assassin.

"Language, pal," said Qrow, holding his sword threateningly. "There're kids present."

"Think I give a #$%!" snapped the assassin. "Just hand over the little bitch, and nobody – "

The would-be assassin did not know the forces he was tampering with, nor did he know of Qrow Branwen's short fuse; you never talked trash about a woman in front of him, especially a kid. The assailent only blinked and the graying Huntsman closed the distance between them, slamming the butt of his blade against the stranger's face. The assassin tumbled across the dirt, but rolled back up to his feet and threw himself at Qrow with his blade gauntlets held out in front. Qrow effortlessly sidestepped the oversized letter openers, grabbed the stranger by the wrist, and flipped him over onto his back. He twisted the assassin's arm, making him cry out in pain, but the assailant tapped his boot heel on the ground and a hidden switch blade popped out from under the toe.

The slob of a killer, twisted his lower body around to swing the hidden knives at Qrow's chest, but the dusty of Huntsman reeled back while at the same time releasing his grip on the man's arm. The assassin flipped around and pressed his palms to the ground, but rather than pushing himself back up, the strange assailant lifted his lower body in the air and started spinning in circles. Qrow stared at the man with obvious bewilderment; his head was turning in circles following the assassin's leg movements. His senses returned to him at the very last second and tilted his head to the side just in time to avoid the knife that had been thrown at his head; the knife stabbed into the carriage; Olive screamed in surprise.

Qrow raised his sword to cover his face and deflected more knives aimed for his (self-proclaimed) gorgeous face. Seriously, Qrow thought, what kinda whack job shoots projectiles from his feet while spinning around on his head? The shots were easy to block enough –the broadside of the sword made an effective shield – but it was annoying just trying to get close to him while he was twisting around like a damn top! After deflecting the sixth (or was it the seventh?) knife, Qrow finally had enough.

Something clicked in his sword, long blade retracted towards the base before folding over, and two long barrels became prominent at the hilt. The dusty old Huntsman sidestepped another knife and aimed the barrels at the ground before squeezing the trigger. A buckshot of bullets sprayed the ground beneath the assassin's hands; the would-be assailant let out a yelp and fell on his side. One stray knife flipped into the air and started falling down on top of the assassin, but Qrow, ever the gentleman, casually flicked the blade away with his shotgun-sword before turning the barrel on the attacker.

"You #$%^&* piece of s-GAH!" yelped the assassin; Qrow stepped on his fingers.

"You know, I have a niece that's a real firecracker like you," said Qrow. He kneeled down and pressed the barrels against the assassin's cheek. "Her mom used ta wash her mouth out with soap so often, she'd be coughing up bubbles for a week. But I don't think that's gonna work on you. So why don't ya make it easy on yourself and tell me who sent ya before I have to get rough."

" #$% you," spat the assassin.

Qrow hit him with the butt of his weapon.

"Ya see, that's the kinda language that get ya into trouble," said Qrow. "Now, please be a good boy and tell teacher why you wanna kill Olive."

"Heh, you think you're so smart," said the assassin mockingly, "be a Huntsman and all. But the thing about Huntsmen is that they're so shortsighted; they always have to play by the rules. But people like us, we always play to win."

While the dusty old Huntsman's back was turned, a silent figure deftly dropped from the trees without alerting him and stalked over to the carriage. A raggedy-looking boy barely peeking into adolescence with unkempt silvery-gray hair dressed in a two-toned black-and-gray jacket, black fingerless gloves, dark orange pants, and black combat boots. His clothes were just as grungy as the assassin's, if not worse. Much of his clothing was ripped a dozen times over – they looked like knife cuts – and the amou8nt of dirt and stains was almost nauseating. And if his clothing was bad, it was nothing compared to the amount of scars and bruises he was carrying, and those were only the ones that were visible.

The young boy stealthily treaded toward the door and reached out for the handle, which was a little difficult when his left eye was swollen shut.

"Lousy, good-for-nothing, old fart," mumbled the boy. He jiggled the carriage handle, but couldn't turn it open; it was locked from the inside. "Fan-tastic. All right, we'll do this the hard way, then."

The boy took a step back, lifted his leg to his chest, and threw a sharp kick. But before the blow could connect, the carriage door suddenly blew outwards, splintering into a hundred wooden fragments on the road, and knocked the boy flat on his back. Qrow jumped up and turned on the moment; the would-be assassin took the chance to put some distance between them. The youngest fighter in the forest groaned, sitting up while holding the throbbing pain in his skull, when he heard a pair of boots hit the ground and took a couple steps toward him. He sneered up at Olive, who returned his gaze with a somber, almost pitiful look.

Olive was the type of beauty that was rarely seen in less-than-glamorous kingdom like Mistral. Her skin was the same shade as her name and impossibly flawless, free of any blemishes or markings with silky-smooth brunette hair that touched the base of her spine, and eyes that shined like emeralds. She wore a flowing dress that started white at the chest and shifted to a soft mint on the way down with golden vine patterns looping around the hem and moss-green doves with olive branches woven in three places. She also wore a mossy-green corset overtop her dress, a green silk cloth hanging from her hip, and a light-brown vest. A silver spiral arm band was wrapped around her left bicep, seven golden bangles clattered on her right wrist, and emerald pendent dangled around her neck.

The Mistral beauty then kneeled before the fallen boy and offered her hand to him. That's when the boy noticed the item strapped to her left forearm: a silver armband with a metallic, six-petal lotus flower attached. The boy recognized that the metal flower was not for accessorizing, it was a weapon. Then that meant this girl – Olive – was a Huntress-in-training. The boy growled under his breath. Figured the old man would overlook a critical detail, or maybe he knew and didn't tell him. That sounded like something the ass would do.

"Are you all right?" asked Olive kindly. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Not any more than your about to be!" snapped the boy.

Olive backed away in surprise as the younger boy suddenly lifted himself off the ground by his hands, showing impressive upper body strength, and swept his legs in a windmill motion. The kick was coming around to the side of Olive's head when the silver-haired boy suddenly had his hands knocked out from under him and collapsed sideways on the ground. The young killer-in-training flipped on his back and stared above, gapping in fright, as Qrow swopped down with his sword slicing across. The boy rolled out of the way just before the sword stabbed the dirt where his head was moments ago, rolled up to his feet and dashed down the road in a run.

With Qrow's attention directed elsewhere, the other assassin punched and kicked the air, throwing several knives at the unsuspecting Huntsman. But Olive saw it. She jumped in between Qrow and the knives with her left arm crossed over her chest and squeezed her hand into a fist. The petal of the metal lotus expanded in a spiral pattern, emitting a green energy that took shape as a transparent round shield.

The knives bounced harmlessly off Olive's aura shield and the clatter redirected Qrow's attention. His wine-colored eyes jumped from Olive's shield, the knives on the ground, and the assassin standing at the end of the road. He was able to put two and two together. The dusty old Huntsman shifted his weapon into its shotgun mode and fired off several buckshots, all of which the assassin dodged by flipping backwards out of their range. Qrow frowned as he reverted back to sword mode; Olive returned her shield to its inactive state.

The assassin glared at the pair from a distance when he was suddenly joined by the silver-haired boy. Without warning, the older man grabbed the boy roughly by the hair and pulled back sharply, causing the boy to cry out.

"You worthless piece of shit – you #$%^& up again!" yelled the older assassin furiously, giving the boy an extra hard tug. "You had one job – ONE JOB – Mercury, and you couldn't even do that right, you #$%^&* piece of – "

"Augh! Dad, it wasn't – OW – my fault!" yelped Mercury. "I didn't know she was – YOW – a Huntress!"

"Wow, this guy makes my sister look like parent of the year," mumbled Qrow, shouldering his sword.

"I recognize that man," aid Olive, pointing to the abusing father. "That's Marcus Black – he's a famous assassin in Mistral. Mother and Father warned me he might be coming after me."

"It would've been nice to know that little piece of info ahead of time," said Qrow disapprovingly.

"Would you have taken this job otherwise?" Olive countered.

"Are you kidding?" said Qrow, chuckling amusingly. "I eat punks like these for breakfast. Feel like tag-teaming these boneheads."

"I don't really know a lot about fighting," said Olive earnestly. "Mother only trained me to use defense techniques."

"Then you watch our back while I worry about the front," said Qrow.

The dusty old Huntsman rushed ahead with Olive nipping at his cloak. Marcus Black, still seething at his son, glared at the two approach duo and threw Mercury away; he ignored, or didn't care, about the splashing in the swamp water. The Mistral assassin took off at a running start and leaped into a flying kick, which Qrow blocked with the broad side of his sword and pushed off. The sword-wielding Huntsman swung his weapon through the air when Marcus landed, but the assassin bended backwards far enough to narrowly avoid the blade edge. Marcus brought his knife-tipped boot to Qrow's neck, but Olive jumped in between with her aura shield, deflecting the blow and causing the assassin to stumble. Qrow took the opportunity for a quick kick to Marcus' gut and knocked him flat on his back.

The water on their right exploded and Olive and Qrow looked over to see Mercury flying at them with both feet forward. Olive the shield maiden raised her shield to take the full brunt of Mercury's kicks, which sent a shiver of pain down her spine and nearly made her legs buckle. Qrow swung his sword at the boy, but Mercury kicked off the shield and flipped backwards over the blade edge before landing safely on his feet. The younger assassin took a daring few kicks to Qrow, but the experienced Huntsman effortlessly slapped the strikes away and then elbowed him in the back. Mercury shuffled on his hands and feet momentarily before righting himself up, turning and sneering at the pair. He was knocked off his feet by the aura shield that flew into his face.

"Nice one," Qrow complimented Olive on the return catch. "Where'd you learn that one?"

"Mr. Rogers was a good friend of my mother's," answered Olive.

"…never heard of him," said Qrow bluntly.

Mercury sat up again, now looking more furious than ever, flipped backwards onto his feet, took a stance, and then performed a sweeping windmill kick against the ground. Dirt kicked up in a cloud of dust to cover them; Qrow covered his face with his sleeve while Olive ducked behind her aura shield. A moment later, Mercury leaped through the haze with his foot raised high and brought it down on top of Qrow's head. The dusty old Huntsman didn't appear hurt by the strike, but he was definitely taken by surprise as Mercury then followed up with a rising flip kick to the older man's chin. Qrow stumbled back a few feet, shaking his head of the momentary daze, when Olive saw Marcus Black jump behind him.

"Look out!" Olive warned.

Qrow snapped up in surprise and looked over his shoulder as Marcus Black came down on top of him with both arm blades down. Her protector would not be able to protect himself in time, Olive realized, and relieved the pressure in her fist to deactivate the shield, then pressed a hidden mechanism with her thumb. The metal lotus petals snapped together and split down the middle to form the limbs of a crossbow.

The Huntress-in-training pointed the crossbow's head at Marcus Black on instinct and a bolt of green aura appeared on the stock. Olive let the bow fly without aiming (which Qrow would chastise her later as dangerous), but her gamble with chance paid off as the bolt stabbed Marcus Black in the shoulder. The older assassin winced from the sudden shock (the aura bolt dissolved into his shoulder), unconsciously dropping his attack and landing behind his target. When he looked up again, he nearly fell over himself when he stared directly face-to-face with Qrow; the sword-wielding Huntsman was grinning mischievously.

"Hey, there," said Qrow tauntingly.

Marcus Black took a step back (Hey, that rhymed!), but that was as far as Qrow was gonna let him. The dusty old Huntsman stomped his foot down on Marcus's ankle, causing Marcus into a kneeling position. He followed up with a sweeping uppercut of his sword that lifted the assassin off the ground by a couple feet, and then did a quick spin kick into the man's stomach that sent him flying across the road. Marcus Black hit one of the thickest trees with his shoulder, causing him to spin before head-butting into another tree behind it; his faint aura field shattered around him. The defeated assassin hit the swamp floor with a squelching plop. Qrow was laughing.

"Oh man, I shoulda brought my camera," said Qrow amusingly. "My nieces would love a pic of this!"

Despite his appearance and 'charming' personality, Qrow Branwen really was a nice guy thinking about his nieces, Olive thought. But as the dusty old Huntsman talked about the many ways Marcus Black looked so humiliated, the shield maiden could help feeling they were forgetting something. It all came back to her when Mercury Black jumped out and kicked her in the side of the head.

Olive slammed against the side of her carriage, steadying herself, turned toward Mercury, and quickly ducked when his foot came flying for her face. The young assassin's boot smashed straight through the transport's wooden paneling; something smashed inside – Olive hoped it wasn't something valuable. The Huntress-in-training rolled out from underneath her opponent, jumped up, and aimed her crossbow point blank at his head. But before Olive had the chance to shoot, Mercury ripped his foot through the side of the carriage and sprayed her with wood fragments. Olive instinctively crossed her arms to ward off the splinters, but left herself open for Mercury to attack. The young assassin kicked her in the stomach, making her double-over, high kicked her in the chin to throw her up, then dropped kicked her in the chest to bring her back down.

The shield maiden's body was racked with an unpleasant throbbing sensation; this was a feeling she was unaccustomed to and she didn't like it. And it wasn't helping that Mercury was kicking her in the sides over and over again, looking down on her with a sadistic grin.

"Olive!" shouted Qrow.

Qrow made a beeline to his ward when a pair of strong arms suddenly wove themselves under his armpits and locked behind his head. The Huntsman glared darkly at Marcus Black, who was smirking arrogantly.

"I told you, Huntsman, we always play to win," hissed Marcus Black. "Finish her off, Mercury!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" snapped Mercury.

"You'll do what I say, when I say it you ungrateful little shit!" shouted Marcus Black furiously. "Kill her already and be done with it!"

"You know, it would hurt you to – oof!" Mercury coughed.

Mercury slid back a way, holding his abdomen from when the wind got knocked out of him. He shot an intense glare at Olive, who stood up with her aura shield active. Gnashing his teeth in frustration, Mercury rushed at her and kicked his boot against the shield, but Olive held her ground and did a sweep kick to knock the assassin off-balance. Mercury bounced off the ground, spun his way back up, and flipped away from the shield maiden. His eyes were cold and calculative; a complete contrast to the frustration he had shown earlier. Had that been a ruse?

Mercury closed the distance between them again, starting two strong spin kicks to Olive's left side, which she blocked with her shield, then pivoted on his other foot for a reverse spin kick to her other side. The huntress-in-training saw the hit coming and knocked it away with her free hand; she hissed at the throbbing feeling in her palm. Olive turned around with her shield as Mercury shot four rapid-fire kicks, each one higher than the last, until her shield was angled above her head and left her midsection exposed. Mercury quickly dropped his foot and started to fire up a quick kick to her gut, but Olive predicted that the attack would come and pushed forward with an open palm strike to the assassin's chest.

The silver-haired boy rolled backwards a bit, but managed to flip back into his stance, grinding his boot heels into the dirt to stop himself. Olive and Mercury locked eyes with one another, both wondering who would make the next move.

"Mercury, what the #$% are you doing?" screamed Marcus Black. "She's just one girl! Kill her already, you little shit!"

"You know, I have a brother-in-law that could loan you some parenting books," said Qrow tauntingly; Marcus tightened his grip. "So that's a 'no' then?"

A moment of silence passed between the two warriors-in-training…. Mercury suddenly jumped into the air with a downward spin kick, which Olive naturally deflected. Once he touched the ground, Mercury went into a fast sweep kick that Olive stepped back from and followed up with another spin kick that, once again, the shield maiden defended against. And then, to Olive's surprised, the assassin pushes against her shield to use a support and flips over the edge of the aura weapon before bringing his heel down on Olive's left shoulder.

Olive cried out as a wave of pain raced up and down her arm; the aura shield closed into its inactive form. Before the shield maiden could call her weapon back up, Mercury kicked against her forearm and the silver armband was sent flying down the path, clattering into the silent morning air. He also kicked her in the stomach for good measure, making her slide back several feet as she double over in pain.

"Olive!" yelled Qrow.

"Finish her off, Mercury!" yelled Marcus Black.

"I know what to do!" snapped Mercury.

He waited until Olive pulled herself up into a standing position, shot her a sadistically smug smirk, charged after her, and then jumped into the air with both legs forward to deliver the killing blow. It was as if time had slowed around them; Mercury flying at her while Olive watched on, seemingly helpless to defend herself. But Olive did not show fear; she did not show worry. Her expression, as well as her mind, was explicitly clear.

Without a thought in her head, Olive raised both hands in a slow, sweeping motion and took a deep breath; a thin layer of green aura suddenly radiated from her palms. She pushed her hands forward to meet with Mercury's feet. Like glass, the silver-haired boy's boot shattered into small, shard-like fragments, climbing up further along his legs the farther Olive's hands went. It was only a moment, thought it seemed like ages to Olive, before time seemed to resume normally in her mind and she elegantly sidestepped Mercury, listening to him tumble helplessly on the ground.

Olive gave pause and listened. She didn't hear Mercury whimpering or breathing fast; the shock must have knocked him out. She didn't turn around; she couldn't bear to see the damage the she had caused, unintentionally or not. But she didn't need to see it to know it happened. Mercury Black's legs were completely destroyed, beyond any method of healing, and it was her fault. Olive bit her lip and fought back the sting in her eyes.

"Mercury!" shouted Marcus Black; he sounded genuinely worried for once. "What'd you do to him, you b – "

While the assassin was otherwise preoccupied, Qrow felt the man's hold loosen and reeled back to head-butt him in the chin. Marcus let go of the Huntsman and started to fall back, but Qrow reached out behind, pulled the assassin over his shoulder, and slammed him down into the swamp. The assassin glared up and opened his mouth, no doubt to curse more, but cut him off with a swift kick across the face to knock him out.

"Sleep tight, Black," said Qrow tauntingly. He waded back to the road, making disgusted noises. "Aw man, it's gonna take weeks to get these stains out…. Hey, princess, you all right there?" he asked, noticing Olive's 'kicked-puppy' look.

"…I hurt him," mumbled Olive softly.

"Yeah, you did," Qrow confirmed. He hissed inwardly when he saw the damage; the boy's legs were absent from the knees down. "That was kinda brutal."

"I didn't mean to," murmured Olive. "I just…reacted. It happens sometimes, when I feel like I'm not in control of myself, and my body does things my mind is tell me 'no' to."

"Those are called 'instincts', princess, and you've got some good ones," said Qrow.

That didn't make Olive feel better. Qrow looked down at the Huntress-in-training with a frown then peeked over her shoulder and saw her weapon lying on the ground a few feet away. He walked around his charge and picked up the armband, kindly brushing off the dirt and muck before returning to Olive. He pulled out Olive's arm and the girl didn't refuse him, allowing the older Huntsman to clamp the weapon back on her forearm.

"Listen, Olive, I know you don't want to hear me say this," said Qrow, "but it is gonna get easier as you get older. Fighter, hunting, hurting – all of it. I know you don't want it to, but that's the kind of world we have to live with. It's either hunt and survive, be hunted and die. Your instincts said you didn't want to die, so the reacted to defend yourself. It's nothing to feel sorry about."

"It's different than hunting Grimm," said Olive. "Grimm are soulless beasts that feel no pain. But people are – "

"Some people are just as bad, if not worse than the Grimm," Qrow interrupted. "Look, Olive, you're about to be a Huntress soon, which means you gonna have to make a lot of difficult decisions. Being a Hunter…you try to save as many people as you can, but that doesn't mean you can save everybody. But if you can't find a way to live with that, next time... maybe nobody gets saved. Ya understand?"

"…yeah," said Olive, nodding slowly.

"You'll do fine, Olive, trust me," said Qrow, standing up and ruffling her hair; Olive laughed. "Well, since our ride is jacked, looks like we'll be walking to port."

"You could use the exercise, old timer" aid Olive teasingly.

"Hey…," said Qrow, giving her the stink eye.

Olive laughed as they walked down the road, side-by-side, towards the rising sun.

STRATOS
HONEY
DOMINO
OLIVE

oooo

Team SHDO

Remnant Bio-Card

Name: Olive Evergreen
Age: 17
Kingdom of Origin: Mistral
Occupation: Shade Academy Student
Team: Team SHDO
Partner: Domino Bones
Relatives: (Unnamed Father) (Unnamed Mother)
Semblance: Shatter
- The ability to break down matter regardless of hardness or condition
- Cannot use semblance on non-physical objects (fire, lightning, etc.)
- Subject is not immune to self-harm; must handle with extreme caution.
Weapon (s): Spring Lotus
- A wrist-mounted device that projects aura as a shield or crossbow
- Weapon draws energy directly from user's aura.
- Overuse of weapon can result in aura fatigue
Characteristics:
- Owns a Mistral White Pigeon named Harmony
- Suspected affiliation with Remnant Ore Distribution (R.O.D.) Company
- Owns a secret stash of GL literature.