Author's Note: Before you start reading this one, I'd like to take a moment to let you know that starting Monday I'll be updating The Golden Retriever on that day instead of Thursdays. For the roughly...fifty or so people who are waiting on the next chapter, please be patient. I thought I'd had a good hold on it and was about ready to upload it, but after re-reading it I realized it was kind of shitty. Well, shittier than usual, at least. So I'm in the process of writing a new one that should be up by Monday.

Anyway, here's something from Cardin, so fans of his (I mean, there's got to be at least one, right?) can rejoice.

Disclaimer and Warnings still apply from the first chapter.

That Time Cardin and Orville Became Frienemies

Cardin Winchester grunted as he was sent flying for about the eighth time in as many minutes. Timing his landing, he managed to roll backwards and halt his momentum easily enough, only to jump out of the way of the hammerhead descending on him with frightening speed. He was barely able to avoid the hunk of steel, but couldn't quite dodge the pink explosion that followed and was once more airborne.

It had been around two weeks since that fateful, very nearly disastrous afternoon in Forever Fall Forest when he'd almost gotten himself and his team all killed for some stupid prank. Team CRDL had made leaps and bounds in their training since Doyle and his friends had begun assisting them, but Cardin would be damned if he enjoyed it.

Especially when he was partnered with the crazy hammer-wielding storm known as Nora.

It made sense, he knew, to pair him up with the only other person in their group who used a blunt-force weapon. In point of fact, Cardin's mace-handling skills had improved drastically once he'd started actually paying attention to Nora's style instead of running around in a futile attempt at keeping his legs intact. He just wished Doyle didn't watch from the sidelines with such a shit-eating grin on his face while recording every shameful moment on his scroll.

As he painfully got to his feet once more, he held out a hand (the agreed-upon signal for a time-out) and bent over to catch his breath. Cardin had never felt so exhausted in his life than he did during and after these sessions. Even his father, who had been a ruthless slave-driver when it came to training, hadn't worked him this hard.

Whenever he or one of the others complained (and he'd even heard Schnee grumbling about the breakneck pace once), Doyle would just smile and ask if they wanted to hang out in the Grimmlands for a few months instead.

At first, Cardin had taken Doyle's outburst in Professor Arc's class with a ten-pound bag of salt. He'd just assumed the stupid Faunus had been bragging in order to look good in front of his partner, like the Professor had insinuated. After watching Doyle in Combat class, however, Cardin had been forced to admit that perhaps it hadn't been all bluster. And now that Doyle was actually training him, Cardin could admit that he'd been completely and utterly wrong about his first impression of the dog-eared boy.

Cardin had grown up his entire life hearing about the evils of Faunus from his father. Cardin's mom had been killed during the final hours of the Battle of the Red Chaff, where the blood of both sides had dyed the Atlesian wheat fields red. He'd taken everything his dad had said at face-value, and that had colored his perception of those with animal traits from the time he was old enough to understand such things.

Now, though, with one of those very creatures whom his father had taught him were sub-human having literally saved his life, Cardin's whole mindset had been a bog of confusion and frustration.

The frustration obviously stemmed from coming to terms with the fact that his dad was wrong, whether intentionally or because of misplaced grief-turned-fury. Cardin had looked up to Bishop Winchester as a man who could do no wrong; hell, he'd chosen the relic during initiation for the sole fact that it was his dad's name. To find that what he'd learned at his father's knee about Faunus was wrong, and in such a jarring fashion, shook him down to the core and made him second-guess all of his dad's advice.

His confusion was mostly due to the fact that he'd been nothing but hateful to Faunus in general, and Doyle in particular. Yet when Team CRDL had been on the metaphorical chopping block, the dog Faunus had acted without hesitation to save them even at the expense of whatever he'd been planning against that terrifying woman.

It simply boggled Cardin's mind that Doyle would even bother giving him the time of day, let alone stick his neck out for the team who'd given him so much grief since the semester had started. Cardin wasn't used to people being nice to him; he'd always taken what he felt was due to him, having studied his father's traits and tendencies extensively to be more like his hero, and it hadn't exactly gotten him very many friends.

"Finished, Baby Bird?" Doyle asked as he walked up to stand beside Nora, patting the grenadier on the shoulder. "Good hustle out there, Blitz, take five."

"You got it, Glorious Leader!" the ginger girl saluted before skipping off to presumably find her partner.

Doyle watched her go with a fond smile on his face, and Cardin took the opportunity to examine his...coach? Savior? Cardin wasn't quite sure what their relationship was, to be honest. They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies, either, not really. Looking back on it, Cardin realized that he and his team hadn't ever really been very high on Doyle's list of priorities; they probably hadn't ever been considered enemies.

Regardless, the Faunus looked like he hadn't been getting much sleep lately. Ever since the Forever Fall incident, it had been like someone lit a fire under Doyle's ass. It wasn't just his friends and CRDL he'd been driving so mercilessly; Cardin heard the other members of ORNP and RWBY muttering amongst themselves about how hard he was training as well, breaking his back trying to come up with new techniques and tactics to use against Cinder and her league of super-evil or whatever after he'd laid all his cards on the table during their meeting.

"So what's going on, then?" Doyle's voice brought him back to the present, and Cardin frowned.

"What d'ya mean?" he asked.

Doyle waved a hand toward where Nora had gone (and yep, she'd found that poor, poor fellow she called a partner). "You seemed distracted during that spar," he said. "Somethin' on your mind?"

Cardin blinked; was he really that obvious? "Yeah, I guess there is," he relented. He shuffled away quickly when a couple of stone chairs rose up from the ground.

"So dish," Doyle urged, dropping into one and gesturing to the other. "You're part of Team Orville now, we gotta get you in top shape for the Tournament, and that ain't gonna happen if you're gathering wool during a fight."

Cardin sat down, sighing in relief. Hate him or love him, Doyle sure knew how to make a quality chair. "Look," Cardin began. "I appreciate all this, so don't think I'm being ungrateful or anything, but why did you help us that day in the forest?"

Doyle hummed thoughtfully before answering. "Well, I dunno if you knew this," he said, "but my parents died in the Lighthouse Massacre. I was on my own for about a year after that, and nobody would give a orphaned Faunus street kid a second glance. Except one day, somebody did."

"That Gin dude your friends were talking about," Cardin guessed. He'd heard about the Faunus who had raised Doyle from the others, and it was hard to connect the cool old guy they spoke of with the terrifying General Solo who'd haunted his nightmares after his father's cautionary bedtime stories.

"Yep," Doyle confimred. "He taught me that everyone deserves a chance to live, even if they're a bunch of assholes like you and your team." Cardin glared at him, but that only served to make the jerk laugh. "I saved your skin because I had the means and opportunity to help out. And look at what you've done with your chance."

He jerked his head toward the large clearing they had chosen to train in. Russel was practicing his high-speed spinning move on a large boulder with Ruby's assistance (Russel's Semblance wasn't quite the same as hers, but it was close enough for the younger girl to offer pointers). Dove and Blake were going toe-to-toe in the center of the glen, and Cardin's teammate was actually doing pretty well. Sky, meanwhile, was near a large tree with Pyrrha, who was showing him a few moves that utilized his polearm's longer reach with her weapon's spear configuration.

"You're all doing well," Doyle continued. "Hell, you're not even a bunch of assholes anymore, really. I haven't seen you bullying anyone in weeks."

"That's because we're always too exhausted to even think after these sessions," Cardin grumbled half-heartedly. The truth was, Cardin hadn't even felt the desire to mess with the other students after having seen that meeting in Forever Fall. It had really put things into perspective for him and forced him to rethink much of his behavior.

"Anyway," Doyle said, shaking his head in amusement. "You found the right path, Baby Bird. You just have to keep flying along and you'll be great one day."

That simple comment took Cardin by surprise. Was Doyle...actually encouraging him? Him, Cardin Winchester, the bigoted bully of Beacn? It made no sense!

"Seriously, Doyle, what do you get out of this?" he demanded. "Why are you being so fucking nice? It's really starting to mess with my mind."

"Well, part of the reason is to mess with your mind," Doyle admitted shamelessly. "But part of it's because the world's full of enough horrible shit as it is. Why add to it when it's our job as Hunters to make life a little less shitty?" Doyle stood, stretching, and started to walk over to where Russel was jumping around in celebration after crushing the boulder to rock chips. "Go get Blitz and keep it up, Baby Bird. You're doing just fine."

Cardin sat for a moment longer before getting to his feet as well. "Doyle," he called, and the Faunus turned to him curiously. "Are you...are you doing okay?"

A somewhat mystified look stole across Doyle's face. "Why Cardin Winchester, was that concern for little ol' me?"

Expression sour, Cardin growled, "You're starting to look like shit. I can't get better if my personal trainer's running himself ragged."

Doyle offered him a tired smile. "I'll be fine," he assured. "Get your nose back to the grindstone. And watch out for flying pink things." Cardin only had a moment to ponder Doyle's words before a whistling sound alerted him to a brace of missiles hurtling toward him at high speeds.

Nora's yell of, "SNEAK ATTACK!" may have tipped him off as well.

After-Action Report: So that was a thing that happened. There was originally going to be more humor, but I decided to change that particular scenario into a chapter unto its own which will show up in about a week or so.

So Cardin's officially begun his Heel-Face Turn at this point. He'll still be sort of an asshole, but it'll be more Jerk With a Heart of Gold rather than just pure Jerkass. It'll take a while, but Baby Bird'll get there eventually. I've already decided that Russel's Semblance (that Sonic dash thing he uses against Pyrrha in Extracurricular) will deal with enhanced speed, and Dove's Semblance is mostly figured out. I still need to figure out Cardin's and Sky's, so if anyone's got ideas, I'd be happy to hear them.

Review if you want, favorite if you'd like, follow if you must, and have a great day!