"What were you thinking, Mr. Benitoite, grabbing that sword bare handed? Especially with your aura as low as it was." Gideon winced as much from the pain as much as Aurell's lecturing. She was carefully working on the long cuts he had scored along his palm and fingers.

"A necessary sacrifice," Gideon grumbled, "it allowed me to put him in an unfavorable position, after which I nearly won the duel."

"At what cost?" The professor's eyes were soft as her touch, her fingers gently cleaning out the cuts. "Why does beating Jericho matter so much to you?"

"You wouldn't understand." Gideon tried to look away, but the professor's green eyes chased his gaze and pulled it back to her. He looked at her for a moment, at her worried face and eyes of concern. She disarmed him with only a glance.

"Try me."

"All my life," Gideon winced as a particularly deep wound was cleaned. "all my life I've trained to become a huntsman. I've worked day and night, been lectured and beaten into shape until I was the perfect huntsman in training. My whole life has been leading up to this. Who is Jericho to act carefree? Sleeping in, skipping class, missing assignments, only for professors to sing his praises and give him special treatment? What has he done to deserve that?"

"Have you ever asked him?" Aurell said.

"What?"

"I asked you if you've ever bothered to hear his side of the story." Thankfully her eyes were focused on his wounds. She didn't see Gideon go red, with his mouth slowly opening and closing, unable to find an answer. "You've been so close-minded and selfish you haven't considered that he's likely just as confused as you." Aurell laid white bandages over his hands, tightly wrapping the burning wounds in soft comfort. She closed his fingers over his palm and held them for a moment, looking him in the eyes until he looked back. "I think you and Jericho are more alike than you realize. Perhaps if you spend some time with him, you'll discover something new."

Gideon looked at her with new confidence. It didn't take him long to drop the red cheeks and gaping mouth. He gripped his wrapped hand, testing it.

"Where is Jericho?" Gideon said.

Aurell frowned. "Roame took him to another room. I don't think you should be seeing him so soon after-"

"I have to see him." Gideon pushed past her and towards the door.

Aurell's hand gripped her weapon. She had plenty of time to freeze his feet to the floor or the door to the frame, perhaps blowing him back onto his rear, or any of her many dust manipulation techniques. Yet, she didn't. Roame and her had separated them for a reason, but she trusted the boy, even only after their short talk.

000

"I hope you're happy, Jericho." Professor Roame sat the boy down in his desk chair. He was shivering with half-open, distant eyes. "Ms. Lowell, would you kindly fetch a blanket for your teammate?" The wolf Faunus nodded and disappeared out the classroom door.

"I'm f-f-fine." Jericho worked to try to stop his shaking. "N-n-no blood."

"I don't think so. Although, it looks like he really thumped with that last shot. When you've warmed up some I'm gonna put some ice on your chest." Roame sat on his desk with a sigh. "Are you satisfied? Finally finished your petty squabble?"

Jericho's only answer was a cold look. It looked like he wanted to say more, but the shivering held him back from saying too much.

"From what I remember, the cold afterwards is temporary, your body's way of cooling down after the overexertion from your semblance. It was dangerous to use it at such a low aura level. Not to mention you haven't used the technique in months. I'd call your execution sloppy, at best."

"Taking shots at me? At a time like this?" Jericho's lip curled. His face turned red with anger, though his shivering didn't stop. "I get that I can't use it like I used to. There's no reason to rub it in."

"It's not an insult, it's an observation. I'm saying that…" Roame trailed off. No, this wasn't the right time, he decided. A conversation for a time when Jericho wasn't teetering on hypothermia. Instead, Roame walked beside the desk, lowered himself to Jericho's level, and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Jericho's skin was unnervingly cold; it didn't feel like it belonged to anything living. The student didn't respond to the touch, only closing his eyes and looking away.

000

Vanna was about to open the door with her retrieved towel when Gideon ran up to her. Gideon, of all people. She put her back to the door and held the towel behind her, guarding it stubbornly.

"Let me in," Gideon demanded.

"Roame said you guys shouldn't see each other." Vanna pursed her lips and shook her head furiously, making her ears make a slapping noise. In truth she was torn. Roame had said to keep them separate, but Gideon had a funny look she couldn't quite place, one that looked genuine.

"I need to see Jericho," Gideon said.

Vanna shook her head again, ears flapping.

"It wasn't a question!" Gideon's face hardened and his hand went for the doorknob, pushing Vanna out of the way.

Vanna's yellow eyes flipped open to their widest. Her nails dug into the towel. All indecision was gone. She cracked the towel like a whip, landing a strike in the drywall beside Gideon's face. It cracked, shards of the wall falling away amidst white dust. Gideon had frozen in place, hand inches from the doorknob.

"You aren't getting past me," Vanna said. She spoke with wide lips that showed sharp teeth. Gideon took a step back without realizing. His injured hand pained him, as if warning him that a sword blade wouldn't be the only thing to bite him today.

000

"I found a towel!" Vanna entered the room with a triumphant smile. After thanking her, Roame wrapped it around Jericho, who pulled it tightly around himself.

"I'm glad you don't have any other injuries," Roame began, "Unfortunately, I can only delay my Third Year Strategy course for so long before students begin to leave. Fifteen minutes, you know. Ms. Lowell, would you mind taking Jericho back to your dorm?" Before he was finished, Vanna was nodding, making her ears bounce. "Please make sure he remains warm. Don't be alarmed if he's cold to the touch until tomorrow."

000

"Do you smell that?" Eve spoke first, raising her thin nose to the air. It took Oakley a moment to find the smell, but once he did it was unmistakable.

"Decay." Oakley swallowed with a knot in his throat. "Something is dead nearby."

With a shwick, knives came forth from Oakley's wrists. Eve copied him; once she grabbed Overdrive it gave off a blue glow that danced on the hills around them. They stood at the base of a large hill, with its roots pushing forth as smaller knolls around them. This area had been reported as teeming with Grimm, but so far they found nothing.

"It could be a deer, or other animal." Eve answered the question that hadn't been asked aloud.

"It could be," Oakley echoed. "Let's make our way up and see if we can see the village from there.

A boulder as tall as a man started off their climb. Oakley lowered his stance and prepared to give Eve a boost upwards. She placed a hand on his shoulder then froze.

"Did you hear-"

A great crashing sounded as a black mass crashed through the boulder, sending crushed rock outwards and throwing them off their feet and tumbling across the bumpy valley. Flying about, Oakley stabbed his wrist blade into the closest solid ground he could find. It ground through clay and gravel, screeching and bending, but eventually bringing Oakley to a stop.

"Eve? EVE!" Oakley couldn't find her or himself in his confusion. The ground shuddered above him and he turned to see the beast.

Red eyes set upon a doggish head with branchlike bony extrusions on the top and sides of his head. Its torso was hardly bigger than its head, and it had wiry legs and long arms that hung nearly to its shins. The entire thing was thin and sharp and jagged and looked like it was made of old tree branches. It pulled its lips back and screamed, revealing grey teeth that pointed in every direction. Its long body folded and leapt, signaling Oakley to leap off his spot moments before it landed, sending another shudder through the ground.

The Grimm leapt from boulder to hill to tree crashing after him in chase, it's long body able to fold and move with ease despite being many times taller. Its twisted fingers were as long as a man's arm and slashed at the hunter without restraint, missing him with increased closeness each time. With a mighty jump, it slammed its hands down on Oakley's path and toppled him onto his back. The Grimm hung over him on all fours with startling calm. It pulled its lips back slowly as it had before and Oakley could hear it let out a slow, rancid breath. The infected air seemed to stick to him. The jaws snapped like a bowstring, biting at Oakley's head. The Hunter threw up his hands and grabbed each of the beast's jaws. A great force made to snap them shut, which Oakley barely held back. The thicket of sharp teeth drained his aura quickly, and he could feel their tips slowly pushing deeper into his good hand, and his metal hand groaned and complained, threatening to break at any point.

Oakley screamed as the monster sunk its bladed teeth into his palm up to the gums. Their erratic placement shredded skin and flesh and his hand burned with a blistering pain he hadn't felt in years.

With a roar of defiance, hundreds of embers raced up Oakley's arm like swirling stars. They glowed bright orange and clustered around his wound. They built up in his palm until Oakley threw off the beast's head with a twist and a fiery flash.

Oakley scrambled up the hillside as the beast squawked and clawed at the flaming patches of it head. He saw a bright red flash light up the hillside, and when he looked back the beast was toppled. Eve stood in the valley, small embers drifting from Overdrive's barrel.

"Thank god you're here…" Oakley looked down to his hand. It was splattered with dried blood and ached too much to use, but with only a shining pink patch where the beast had bit him.

The beast was gone, melted into the night. Now every tree shaking in the wind seemed suspicious, every boulder followed by a held breath.

Dark blood melting fresh snow

Cold flesh in his hands, shaking, he won't wake up

Silver flash in the night

Terror

Panic

Heart bursting, shoulder shredded, arm won't move

Dead

He's dead

Jericho's eyes opened wide and he inhaled sharply. His heart complained and his scar burned as if fresh. A slick layer of sweat covered his body, which radiated heat. He breathed greedily through his mouth, trying to calm the panic in his chest. Every breath was cold and sweet. After a moment, he flung off his blankets. A weight somewhere on them prevented it from coming off in full. He could barely see in the dark, but he managed to make out a dark shape curled into a ball. He poked a silky brown mane and watched it twitch.

Vanna.

What was she doing in his bed, curled up like a dog? It wasn't a surprise, sometimes the Faunus had strange behaviors like that. At least his episode hadn't seemed to wake her up. awkward

He breathed a sigh of relief, as uncomfortable as Vanna's nighttime intrusion was, at least he knew it was her. After a nightmare like that, the warm feeling of her back against his leg was comforting. He could feel her rise and fall with each steady breath. He tried to match his own breathing to hers, managing to slow it to a fixed rate. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back into his pillow. At some point, his hand moved on its own, finding its way to Vanna's head. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair.

"Hmm?" Vanna slowly rose. With a silent curse, Jericho whipped his hand back and rolled away from Vanna, pretending to sleep. It wasn't long before Vanna called out, "J… Jericho? You awake?"

Jericho gulped. "Yeah."

"Why?" Vanna yawned, rubbing her eyes from sleep.

"Nothing." Jericho shot back. He could feel Vanna tense up and recoil, and his heart dropped. Regret filled him; she meant him no harm and all he could manage was rudeness? "I… I had a rough dream." Jericho found himself saying. With a rustle of blankets, Vanna crawled around his bed. He didn't understand what she was doing, first guessing she was leaving to give him space. Instead she made her way to his front side and snuggled up against him. She nuzzled his chest, her fuzzy ears rubbed his nose and nearly made him sneeze. Soft fingers found their way down his arms to his wrists, gripping them and bringing them up to her head.

"Like before." Vanna whispered. Jericho began petting her again, filling his chest with the same calm as before. Vanna let out a noise of gratification, nodding her head against the movements of his hands. Slowly, her hands found her way to his waist and she gripped him tightly against her.