Ruby threw her arms around her dad, "I don't want to go!"
Taiyang knew behind him was his tribe's headman, Qrow, and steeled himself, "Ruby dear, we've been over this. You are the runt of our tribe. You haven't grown since you were 15."
Stomping her foot, "I'm strong! You've seen me fight."
She felt Qrow breath in for a long sigh, "Kid, you are good, better than most humans. We happen to be werewolves. You're 20, now and we still have to look out for you."
Ruby whined, she worked hard! Her uncle was the toughest werewolf she knew, and they wielded the same weapon! Sure hers was lighter, but she was faster.
Tai gently pushed her away and handed her her pack, "I love you, little Rubbles. But, we have to think of the pack."
She sniffled and nodded, throwing her head back to howl. Yet, she could only whimper. Heavy footsteps rapidly approached her, and she knew that heartbeat. She knew it as well as her own.
"Yan-" Ruby found herself flat on her back with her big blonde sister on top of her. Yang cried and dug her fingers into Ruby's sides.
"I'm coming with you!"
The little werewolf's blood went cold, "Yang, no! You're the budding strength of our pack."
"Werewolves die of loneliness!" Tears ran freely from her lilac eyes.
Their dad lifted his older girl onto her feet, and Ruby scrambled to hers. Yang clutching a paper gift wrapped package to her chest.
Ruby squared her shoulders as much as she hated it, "I can't stay and risk mating during my transformation. My genes would only make our tribe more vulnerable."
Yang held out the gift. Ruby looked to her uncle, who nodded in approval.
She unwrapped it. "It's a red cloak."
"Our kind needs to be around others. And yes, humans cannot transform. But, they are still the closest brethren we have." Yang brushed her little sister's underdeveloped ears.
Ruby rolled her eyes, "My ears are small. You can hardly ever see them."
"And if your hair got wet?" Qrow fastened the cloak around her throat, "Just because you can't stay here doesn't mean we want you hunted. So keep the hood down, unless you have to."
Ruby nodded, "People will look closer if it seems like I'm trying to hide."
She pulled up her hood to hide her tears as she walked away.
XXX
Ruby had traveled for months, wandering from village to village, helping where she could. She'd slaughter the occasional drake or wraith. Then the resident hunter would thank her with some payment and send her along her way.
Humans were tasty prey for most magical creatures, so Ruby couldn't fault them for mistrusting. Still, the solitude was getting to her. She missed laughing around the fire or teaching the children how to track. Under her heavy hair, her ears pricked forward. She smelled human sweat along with an imp's musk.
Dashing forward among heavy trees, she saw two men back to back. Both wielded light weapons, canes. She couldn't get a good look, but the stench of blood clearly came from the older one.
Then a nasally squealing laughter high up in the tree.
The young man, breath heavy, "Clearly, you imps weren't raised right. Toying with your food is ill-mannered."
The other gave a choked laugh and coughed out blood.
In a shot, Ruby was up in the trees. The imp didn't expect her, so the beady bright eyes only just widened before she cut it down. Then, kneeling on a tree branch, she cocked her head. Watching the humans below.
Gunfire rang out, and she saw the young human strike at the second imp. That tiny creature gave him a hard time, and it rolled between the long legs to wind a strap of leather around his ankle. Tripping him face-first into the earth. The older man weakly stumbled to his knees when he lifted his cane.
Ruby gracefully landed, and in a few swipes, she made short work of the last squat villain. Instantly she was by the grey-haired man feeling for his pulse...and found nothing. She gasped, looking to the younger man, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."
Looping his belt back through his pants, he nodded. "He was the hunter for our little town."
She gave him a sympathetic glance, "What a terrible way to get a promotion."
"I...help out. I'm the gunsmith, not a hunter." Carefully the tall man cradled the dead man in his arms. "I'm sure Ozpin would like to be buried in his grandson's farm." He glanced at her through his messy orange strands, "I'm Roman."
"Ruby."
He nodded, "Sooooo, you want a job?"
"Maybe we should bury the dead first, Roman."
"Aren't you socially appropriate?"
XXX
Ruby had set herself up as a hunter outside the edge of the village, she was a werewolf, and she needed company. It was unnerving to take over the hut of the previous hunter. After Oscar cleared out the sentimental effects of this grandfather, the young man snapped about how convenient for her that grandpa Oz died right when she came by. Most of the other villagers kept their distance, suspicious of Ruby and her timing. The little werewolf might have left if they didn't need her. It was exhilarating to be relied on for her power. For years she knew she weakened those around her, now she relished in finally being the one to strengthen.
The only one happy to have her was the gunsmith. He didn't have much talent for fighting. But, with her as the hunter, he didn't have to try. She was making her breakfast when she heard a knock. Her ears were meager but there would be the only person who would willingly knock on her door.
"Come on in, Roman."
She could smell him enter, like spice. He bathed right before coming here and applied aftershave. He rarely bothered to shave and was usually a little scraggly if she popped over, loudly demanding that he sell her more bullets. He wore that pristine white coat with a red liner, the one that smelled of smoke and gunpowder. She blushed as she noticed the urge to rub her scent on him, one that she had to squash down more and more often.
"Not sure how you always know it's me."
Internally, because you need to be marked...vigorously. Then, as smoothly as she could, "Who else would so casually come up to the strange huntress's door?"
He leaned on her counter and tilted his head. His damp orange strands fell to obscure his cat green eye. "They'll get used to you, little Red riding hood."
She snorted, she was the big...okay smol bad wolf that would eat up your grandma...and she has consumed a grandmother. At least two!
He gave her a sad smile, "Trust me, they will. You took care of those creepy pixies last week. Not to mention the gnomes. The village knows they need you."
She nodded, "hungry?"
"I already ate...but I'd never say no to a bit of sauteed spinach."
She wrinkled her nose, "I usually have to smother it in my bacon to eat it."
He loved the way she looked at him, those bright silver eyes always full of destruction. The way she smiled brightly, revealing in her teeth, she didn't hale from these blunt tooth villagers. How her lips would curve in natural fullness.
He wanted-
He wanted to-
No
No
He wouldn't betray the fact he was the closest thing to a friend she had, just because she made him pathetically ache. So instead, Torchwick forced his every thought, his almost wandering gaze, back to the reason he was here.
She gave him a small plate of what he asked for and sat down at her little kitchen table. Sitting across from him took small bites as she swiftly ate her large meal. She gave him that look, the curious, excited look. That begged to know what was there to fight?
"One of the villagers found pawprints. Werewolf, I think. Young one, likely. The timing isn't right. We have a week until the full moon."
She wrinkled her brows and bit her lip. Each werewolf had its monthly transformation. Some on the full moon and some on a different part of the cycle. Her's happened to be in the first quarter. She swore she covered her prints.
"I'll take a look and do a sweep of the forest."
"Talk to some of the sheepherders, ask 'em if they lost any animals."
Her fingers troubled her skirt, "It's not like they want me to talk to them."
He leaned back in his chair, "They need to get used to you. You're sweet and-" He reddened slightly, "and adorable. It won't take much." He stood and walked over to her pulling her red hood over her head. Since she left her family, it wasn't the first time she was grateful that her black wolf ears never fully developed.
"So little red riding hood go hunt the big bad wolf."
She grinned at him sharply and enjoyed seeing his eyes dilate and his scent turn musky.
XXX
A couple of miles away from his village on an old road, Roman forced himself to recall this was to help his poor village. Pressing the barrel of his cane into the temple of a child. He heard what he assumed was the father emptying out his pockets.
Roman knew he shouldn't relish this.
Seeing the poor girl shake, he couldn't stop whistling a jaunty tune. He loved working on guns, he loved his village, and the new cute little huntress even made his day brighter. If he worked at it, he probably could love her too.
But stealing?
Or more accurately, mugging.
This was pure joy.
It was about to become more fun as the man pulling all sorts of things out of his pocket paused. Looked to the child on the ground crying. Roman was no fool, in a fight with anyone with much skill, he'd lose.
But this was some hapless tradesmen who found a sharp object in his pocket. The ginger rested his predator eyes on the man about to take the gamble and play hero. The victim lunged and Roman's cane cracked across the fool's knee caps. The ginger saw the feint too late and the sharp edge sliced his forearm. He smashed his weapon on the tradesman's temple and finished the pocketing coins. Counting as he went he sighed, Oscar's aunt could have a few more weeks of medication. And because it delighted him, he pressed his weapon a hard into the child to leave a bruise. As he stepped on her unconscious father.
That was only his favorite part of this whole encounter.
XXX
She made her rounds after confirming it was her footprint. She'd make up some excuse to patrol the woods during the full moon and suggest maybe the creature was just passing by. No one was missing their chickens or livestock, and she made some effort to help Oscar around his farm. He had apologized to her for being unkind when she first came. Maybe this was the start of being a part of this...tribe. She self consciously fluffed her hair. Ruby could never be honest about who she was. So wouldn't she always feel alone? Strolling back to her little hut, Red sniffed the air and smelled the scent of blood...and spice! She was close to Roman's workshop. Bolting into a sprint, palms connected to the earth, propelling her faster. She practically tore his door off its hinges, and she took in the sight of him trying to stitch close a wound on his right forearm.
"R-Red." He looked at her, stunned. "You broke my lock."
Immediately she moved to his sink and washed her hands under scalding water. "You're right-handed. You can't stitch that with your left hand." She wrinkled her nose, pouring vodka over the knife on his table and cut off the few paltry stitches.
"What are you- oh. I see"
She used the knife to pick out a tiny chunk of metal still embedded there. She ignored Roman's silence as she mindfully cleaned the wound.
"You've got a keen eye there."
She carefully stitched his arm.
"You're not exactly human…." She felt his free hand comb through her hair. His breath hitched, brushing her ear.
"Ro-Roman, don't distract me when I'm treating your wounds."
Satisfied with her work, she carefully wrapped his arm. "Injured anywhere else?"
Shaking his head, he stared at her in wonder. "You're a werewolf, so that was your pawprint."
She looked at him quizzically, "You're not scared." Or at least he didn't smell like it.
"Why would I be scared? You've been protecting us. You have had months to become some monster to eat us."
Her eyes wandered over the room and settled on a dirty sack. "How did you get injured?"
"Accident in the workshop."
It happens, mistakes happen, and funnily enough, he didn't have the tell-tale signs of a liar. Instead, it was smooth, undetectable to her senses. Yet a lie nonetheless. Her chin gestured to the bag. "You stole."
He smirked, "It's called armed robbery." His leg crossed and leaned back cockily. They both knew she couldn't say anything...not if she wanted to stay in the village.
"Why?"
He frowned, "Our village is poor if you haven't noticed." He gestured to the bag. "Auntie Em needs her medication, and Neo's granary requires repair."
She studied him the way his elbow wrapped around the back of the chair, his hand lazily in his orange hair. The smirk, the utter confidence that he was in control of this situation.
Her small hand latched around his throat and squeezed. "You enjoy your banditry." It was wrong but in the name of protecting his pack. She understood that. She admired that.
He wheezed a little but grinned. Ruby would have called it feral, but his teeth were too round to pull off that look. Then, softly, "Not all monsters are magical little Red."
He stood abruptly, throwing her off balance into his table, knocking off the bottle of vodka and freeing his throat. Ethanol burned her nostrils, and he raised a brow, "So you've got a sensitive nose." He moved closer, shielding her from the volatile scent with his own.
He wasn't as strong as her.
But he thought like a wolf.
Her hands slid up the front of his shirt and rested on his shoulders. Then, raising herself up on her toes, she waited expectantly.
He swallowed thickly, unsure. His dabbling in banditry should have been the end of any friendship they had, and yet it seemed to open a realm of possibilities.
He certainly had a heck of a lot of questions.
But more importantly, he had a little red wolf to kiss.