Ruby was not having the best day ever. She'd been unexpectedly moved ahead two years. That's two years of missed training and education that all her peers would have and she wouldn't. Not to mention, none of her friends could come to Beacon with her because they didn't have a special recommendation from the eccentric, but also cool, aloof, and mysterious, headmaster of the school. Yang didn't get it because of course she didn't get it. Yang thrived in attention, like a flower in the sun.

Ruby already had difficulty dealing with social situations let alone trying to fit in among people who were all going to be older than her with twice the amount of training. She didn't need any more light shed on her making her stand out and feel even more uncomfortable. She was a bundle of nerves and it didn't help when she ran into a crabby princess and exploded. Who she then later met again in the auditorium.

She also didn't appreciate the Dust for Dummies and Other Inadequate Individuals brochure she now had stuffed unceremoniously in her pocket.

Ruby hoped she could stay as far, far away as possible from this girl and her attitude for the rest of the school year. There were only so many times she could apologize and while Yang was unrestrained and outgoing in her social interactions she also wasn't wrong growing up saying that someone who repeatedly demanded an apology long after you've already given many heartfelt, sincere ones didn't deserve her patience or quarter.

Not that… Ruby was going to say that to her face. She thought, maybe, she would just try not to be noticed so much in the future. Maybe hide in the corner if they shared classes.

(Meeting Jaune wasn't so bad, though. Even if he did seem dorkier and more awkward than she was and frankly that should earn him some sort of prize.)

Anyway, back to the topic of attending Beacon, even if she felt shy and nervous and like there were far too many eyes on her, it wasn't like she was going to say no to attending early. This was her dream. She was excited, there were so many cool weapons, she saw someone with a fire sword! She was going to learn so much. She was going to be a Huntress.

Just like Mom.

"Hey, look, sis," Yang says just a little too loudly and pointing. "He looks like he's your age. He's tiny. Another bee's knees! Which means… normal knees!"

"Yang, please! Not so loud. He'll hear us!"

Ruby grabs her sister arm and tugs it back down. Normal girl, normal knees, which meant not having your sister pointing at strangers in the middle of a crowd and drawing their attention.

"Great, just great! It's bad enough they let someone like you in here," Weiss scoffed next to them, staring daggers at Ruby. "But it looks like they'll just let any child walk in, too! This is supposed to be a prestigious institution, not some… some playhouse!"

Well, excuse me, Ruby grumbles in her thoughts.

The boy in question was standing next to a girl with red hair that Ruby thought looked very familiar and who she could probably place if her mind and heart weren't racing at the moment. They hadn't escaped the attention of the boy (or his friend) because Ruby saw him turn his head and look over his shoulder at them, a curious expression on his face.

"Yang, see what you did, he's looking at us!"

"So? Just go over and say hi. Here, why don't I—?"

Yang goes to take one big step forward to approach the boy to introduce herself, smile plastered on her face, but Ruby tugs her arm sharply back. Sometimes Yang overcompensated for Ruby's reservations about meeting new people with disproportionate exuberance, and although Ruby knew her sister had her best interests at heart, Yang wasn't always the best at reading the mood.

Not that, you know, Ruby was any better. But at least she knew not to point at people and talk about them in public when they could hear you!

"C'mon, Yang…"

"You're going to cause a commotion," Weiss tells them sharply, arching her perfectly sculpted brows and crossing her arms, putting a stop to any resistance Yang might put up.

Her sister sighs, arm going slack.

Ruby mouths the word "S-orry," at the boy who was still looking at them appearing a little flustered, and ducks behind Yang to avoid eye contact. If you can't see them, they can't see you. That's the rules.

She didn't see the shy smile he sent her way.

Then Professor Ozpin made his weird, cryptic speech that puzzled everyone in the audience.

Don't think about it, don't think ab—

Pyrrha seemed popular, most likely because she was a legitimate celebrity and that's what celebrities were: popular. She'd graduated top of her class at Sanctum, won the Mistral Regional Tournament four years in a row, which was a new record, all in addition to being strong, smart, pretty and featured on a cereal box. Oscar understood why a lot of people had tried to get her attention during their campus tour and orientation. Although, and Oscar wasn't sure why, she seemed a little reluctant to interact with them. A lot of people, upon finding out that, yes, actually, she was that Pyrrha, wanted to be friends with her or exchange Scroll numbers. Maybe she was introverted or socially anxious like he was? He wasn't entirely convinced of that though, considering how she had no problem approaching and chatting with him when she was helping him earlier on the airship.

He'd peek at team RWBY throughout the day feeling both a sense of comfort and unease. Also, maybe feeling a little bit like a creep. Was it creepier to wait to meet each other "naturally" or to try to seize the opportunity and introduce himself and hopefully make friends with them again? What if they didn't like the version of Oscar he was now? Maybe they only liked him as the Oscar they had first met?

Except, from their current perspective, the Oscar he was now would be the Oscar they first meet, and the later Oscar wouldn't be…Ugh. No. He can't think about that right now. Focus, focus…

They were all a little bit younger. Yang was more animated, more bubbly. She didn't feel as intimidating as he usually found her to be. Oscar never doubted for a second that Yang was kind, protective, and loving, because she was all those things, but of everyone in team RWBY she scared him the most. It hadn't been directed at him, but the way she yelled, expression wild, stance taut and coiled like an arrow poised before release after Ozpin had left them all in the snow, frightened him to his core.

But this Yang still had a flesh-and-blood arm. This Yang hadn't met her mother at Haven who sided with Salem spewing barbs and cold rhetoric. This Yang hadn't yet been lied to after being promised he wouldn't by Ozpin.

He had yet to see Blake more than once. He'd spotted her on the edge of the crowd in the auditorium looking haunted and distant, but once he looked again, she was gone.

Weiss was… different. He'd heard stories about what she was like at Beacon, but he had only ever come to know "Nice Weiss," as the others called her, so he wasn't entirely sure how to react. Had she really treated Ruby this way? He would never have known with the way the two of them went through such great lengths to protect each other. They loved and trusted each other. They were best friends, partners, family.

Or… they would be…? Ugh, time travel.

He'd only known the Weiss who hung back as Yang and Ruby hugged, looking tired and lonely, once they finally reunited. He'd only known the Weiss whose dress was streaked with dirt and whose eyes teared up when she was motioned to join them. He could only remember the small moments when it came to Weiss. Holding a blanket close to her and following after Ruby in Brunswick looking, even to him, tiny and frightened. Or, even if he had been trying not to die of asphyxiation after playing marionette to Ozpin's will when the battle of Haven concluded at the time, Weiss joining in welcoming Blake back into their team, one tearful, heartfelt hug as one.

Ruby was a little different too, but maybe not as much. He tried not to stare at her or the rest of the team because this Ruby seemed a lot more socially awkward than the one he knew. Also, that would be super creepy. The Ruby he had met and known had been a leader. This one… would be. He could see it, and not just because he'd experienced it. It was because Ruby was Ruby and she was the leader. She called the shots, she made hard decisions, she gave her all for the team and the mission and she never sacrificed her integrity or others to do it. She cared, about everyone, and even when things got impossibly difficult she still tried to be supportive, empathetic, and kind.

She still kept going.

Not that… the Ruby he'd known wasn't socially awkward too among those things but…

Oscar put his head in his hands when he remembered his last interaction with Ruby at Atlas. Awkward laughing, awkward eye contact, awkward goodbyes. Ugh, why was he so awkward? It was seriously uncool. He keeps cringing inwardly at himself until Pyrrha gives him a questioning look as they were making their way to the dining hall to have their first meal at Beacon.

Oscar just keeps yelling internally. His last interaction with Ruby was spent being…

No, actually, it didn't matter how it looked. He just wished… he'd said more. Come back safe or I'll always believe in you or...

No, wait, that was even more embarrassing than what he did say. Maybe it was better he hadn't…

"Hey there," said a boy, sliding up to where he and Pyrrha were walking, tearing his thoughts away from Ru—team RWBY. The other boy's attention was focused solely on Pyrrha, blatantly ignoring Oscar—which wasn't hard, exactly, he probably hadn't even noticed him because of how tall he was. Another soon-to-be friend for Pyrrha, Oscar thought.

The other boy continued smoothly, "Couldn't help but notice you looked a little lonely over here. Why don't you let me keep you company? We can talk about technique, what do you say?"

Oscar could almost see the sparkle in his teeth.

"I'm sorry," Pyrrha apologizes, sounding polite, but once again, or at least to his ears, reluctant. She suddenly placed her hands on Oscar's shoulders and turned him around back in the direction they'd just come from. "But I was just helping Oscar look for something he lost. Isn't that right, Oscar?"

"Uh…?"

"Another time then," Pyrrha says with tired cheer, giving a short wave and marches Oscar along with her.

"Pyrrha, what—?"

"Sorry about that, but, well, you know…" she trails off.

Oscar didn't know. He tilts his head to the side.

"Oscar, you mean, this whole day, you didn't know that people were—?" Pyrrha interrupts herself, "Oh Oscar, you're precious."

She laughs, reaches out, and aggressively ruffles his hair.

"I… what? Hey! Stop that!"

Pyrrha continued to laugh wholeheartedly.

After lights-out, Oscar couldn't fall asleep and decided to go outside for some fresh air. He also felt worried that if he did fall asleep, he'd have another nightmare and it's not the kind of thing he wanted everyone to know he suffered from. It had been embarrassing enough when Auntie Em asked about it.

Now that he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, he gave in. Seeing Ozpin up on stage had been hard. Seeing Ozpin in person even though he'd been among a crowd was hard. He wasn't spiraling, not this time. It was just… his throat felt tight.

He reflected.

"You know you're not him, right, Oscar?" Weiss asked him once, as if it were a matter of fact, when they had been the last ones still in the training room. "Oh, don't put your foot that far forward."

Oscar adjusted his footing according to Weiss' instructions holding his cane aloft in front of him. Mirror opposite him, Weiss settles into an en garde position. Together they had decided that matching him against Weiss would help him master the lightning fast multi-strike technique Ozpin's fighting style embodied since she employed a similar style.

Weiss had incredible speed, however. With tactical calculation, she tore through the battlefield even faster with those Glyphs to help her out, skating past her opponents with such grace, beauty, and ease. She would attack from multiple angles, wearing her opponent down with quick thrusts that left very little room to counter.

"What do you mean?"

Weiss lunged forward at hypersonic speed and Oscar miraculously parried, knocking her sword to the side and following up with a two-handed swing. But Weiss is faster, because Weiss is always faster. She does a split-second twirl to position her weapon precisely where she wanted it and blocked his strike. Immediately after she went on the offensive again.

She ricocheted from her place before him, to the training wall to the side, to just above and drives down at him with dauntless, unrelenting force. Not to be caught unaware a second time, Oscar had been ready for her the half second after he'd seen the telltale signs of the Glyph forming beneath her feet and anticipated where she might target him from.

Their weapons clash.

"I'm talking about Oz, of course," she says, pressing Myrtenaster harder against him, making him take a step backwards. "Straighter—but lower stance. Here, let me show you."

They lowered their weapons and she put a hand on his shoulder, pushing back sharply so he'd correctly align his spine in the proper form. Her hand stayed there for a moment, eyes staring into his, clear and blue.

"I know it's not the same, and Ozpin wasn't your father, but I feel as though we have a little in common in that regard. Carrying a legacy, that is. Even if yours is a little…" she paused, brows somewhat furrowed, looking for the right word, "…unconventional."

Oscar frowned, which Weiss saw and gave him a pointed look that seemed to say, "I know, I know..."

Weiss continued, voice small but not unsteady.

"For years I was expected to live up to and carry on the Schnee family name. I used to be so proud of it."

Here, Weiss took her hand back which was quickly curling into a tight, shaking fist. Her gaze was fixed on a point just beyond Oscar's ear. Weiss didn't like to talk about herself. She was quick to assert her personality and opinions, but she rarely willingly shared her feelings when it came to anything personal.

After hearing about Jacques Schnee from the others, he understood why.

"Even after leaving home, splintering from my father and escaping his dominion, it's still a name I carry. People I've never met think they know me. I'm no longer an heiress, I've been disinherited, and still I am associated with and expected to answer for the dishonor my father has committed in our name. I feel so guilty and angry for contributing to the disparity of the world by being so complacent, even if my perspective of the world had been carefully controlled and engineered before going to Beacon. But just like me, guilt by association, you're not responsible for Ozpin's past actions, Oscar."

This was… a lot. Honestly, he felt privileged she trusted him with this much of herself.

Oscar had felt a connection with her before, even though he didn't think either of them have ever talked about it. He wasn't sure their circumstances were the same, but like him she also flinched when things got heated and people started raising their voices in anger. He hadn't thought they had much in common beyond that. She came from a wealthy family, she was a combat specialist, and her every action spoke of refinery and elegance. Although, when she put things in that perspective, he did suddenly feel like he had a lot more in common with Weiss than he'd thought.

"I will be though. Someday."

"You don't know that."

He sighed.

"Let's just get back to training."

Weiss smiled. Oscar didn't see the glint of mischievousness until it was too late.

"That's… cheating…" Oscar groaned from the floor after her little summoned knight knocked him down there.

"One must always keep an awareness of the battlefield," Weiss responded with mock-stiffness, before covering her mouth with a hand as if smothering a smile. She was playing with him. Shortly after, she joins him on the floor, elegantly tucking her legs to the side of her like a born princess.

"We all know you're trying hard," Weiss told him. "You don't have to make up for the mistakes Oz made."

"I will eventually, won't I?"

"No. Ruby said you were your own person and I believe that too. We wouldn't even know what we know now without you. Maybe you can't forgive Oz for the responsibility he gave you or the lies he's told, but I think you should at least forgive yourself."

"He just… left us, Weiss. Abandoned us and the mission. Doesn't that make you angry?"

Oz wasn't the bad guy, Oscar knew this. He was trying to do the right thing and he really did have faith in humanity even if he didn't have faith in individuals. He was a liar, he trusted no one, and he was manipulative, but Oscar didn't think he was the bad guy. It didn't stop him from feeling guilty and angry. Angry because he left. Angry because he kept secrets from him in his own body and fought so hard against him to stop from giving Ruby the vital information about Jinn. Guilty because he was right there with Ozpin as he watched his past unfold. Felt the love, and hate, and hurt, and trauma he had because of Salem. Felt his suffocating grief, white-hot shame, and immeasurable fear.

It wasn't fun being the electrical conductor for the current of someone else's emotions, let alone—as Weiss had correctly surmised—suffering guilt from association.

"But you haven't," Weiss argued. "You're still here. That matters a lot. You can be angry at Ozpin, but being angry at Ozpin doesn't mean you have to be angry at yourself."

Weiss hadn't said whether or not it made her angry.

"Ruby said something like that to me once, back in Haven. Not the angry part, but, um, that even trying was brave."

"Well, she would and she's not wrong. You've always worked hard even though we all can tell how scary this is for you. You're scared, but you're here with us anyway. Ruby's admired that since day o—nhh… A-Ahem. Actually," Weiss suddenly changed the subject, becoming unexpectedly flustered, both hands running along her braid like she was cradling it, as if reassuring herself, "if you haven't eaten dinner yet, shall we go together? I think we're finished here."

"Huh? Well… alright. Hey… Weiss?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. You're not responsible for your father, either."

Weiss helped him up from the floor with a gentle smile and fluffed his hair.

"Good evening, Mr. Pine. I didn't take you for a rule breaker."

Ozpin found Oscar after curfew sitting on the steps overlooking the courtyard watching the moon and stars. He had wanted to speak to him in private about what he'd said during their interview, about "the world not having the luxury of time," but he didn't think he'd have a chance until classes started. Did he know about Salem or not? If so, what did he know?

He seemed like a sensitive boy and there was nothing that he'd discovered about him that seemed to indicate otherwise. Ozpin had tried to keep a discreet eye over him throughout the day. Quiet and bashful in social situations, modest, shy, distracted. Not all that different from other teenagers arriving at Beacon for the first time.

Nevertheless, Ozpin needed to be absolutely certain.

If the visions in his dreams were correct—as bizarre and unreliable as it may be to entertain such a notion—then they would suggest Oscar knew about Salem—disagreeing with James in the future about some things mattering more than stopping her, like keeping their humanity. The question right now was whether Oscar already knew about her or if he had yet to know about her. His words would imply he did, however it wasn't wise to assume another's knowledge without the grounds to substantiate it. Depending on the case, Ozpin would have to adjust how he dealt with Oscar.

The boy looked up at him, face freezing for only a moment before it was replaced with a polite, cagey smile. Clearly, Ozpin's presence hadn't been expected.

"Sorry, O—Professor Ozpin, curfews are new to me," he says, hands clasped neatly between his knees.

Ozpin would wager that was true, too. Living on a farm and doing fieldwork one was kept to a schedule, although that was on his own time, but Oscar had also never been to school before, so he imagined that some rules and expectations were ones that might feel completely alien to him. He would probably need more time than others to acclimate to the school setting.

"You'll get used to them in time, I'm certain. I recall that you said you liked to stay up this late reading. You wouldn't be the first student who has needed time to adjust."

The boy looked doubtful and his gaze was tugged back to watching the stars. But there was still that pressing matter Ozpin wanted to ask him about.

"Mr. Pine, there is something I've been meaning to—"

"Yes," Oscar interrupts him, voice heavy and somber, eyes still locked on the sky. Ozpin got the impression this continued lack of eye contact was on purpose. Whether this was because Oscar was self-conscious or for some other reason, the headmaster couldn't quite yet discern. "I'll confirm what I think you suspect. I know about her."

He almost raises his eyebrows in surprise but manages to contain himself in time. Salem. It had to be. Still, he didn't have the full answer and he remembered Oscar claiming to learn his fighting style from 'reading a lot of books.' Oscar wasn't incapable of misdirection or concealing the truth.

He needed more information.

Ozpin sits down next to the boy on the steps, resting his hands atop the pommel of the Long Memory. There's a gentle breeze this night, softly rustling the trees that circled the courtyard.

"Is that the reason why you decided to come here? Now?"

Oscar watches him from the corner of his eye with a cautious air and guarded expression. He gave a defeated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He looked like he felt cornered.

"One of them," he admits, voice short and clipped.

"And the others?"

Oscar is quiet for a long time staring at the steps beneath his feet. Ozpin knew he'd heard him, because the hands the boy had clasped together grew tight. Moments pass before he allows his shoulders to relax and his grip to loosen up. The boy lets out another sigh as if doubly resigned and then finally turns to face him, green-gold eyes shining in the moonlight.

"Because in the near-future, you die."

…

Well that is certainly a provocative string of words to put together in one sentence.

Ozpin's expression remains neutral.

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't take you at your word. You're claiming to have seen the future?"

The boy pauses, as if he really had to think about it.

"…It's not pleasant," he hedges.

His response didn't precisely confirm his inquiry, but as much as Ozpin has been able to look into him, besides being a private person, the boy didn't seem to be a furtive one. Was Oscar clairvoyant? He hadn't listed a Semblance on his application, but if he could see the future then the headmaster could understand why he might not want to advertise that little fact.

(He briefly wonders if their connection through dreams had anything to do with it, but quickly moves on to more exigent thoughts.)

However, none of that meant he wasn't lying. Even though Ozpin couldn't divine whatever reasons he might have to do so didn't mean he didn't have one.

So he has to ask…

"If you've seen it, then how do I—?"

"That, I'm not sure I can tell you yet… or should," he speaks with a tone of grave deliberation, words coming slowly, but each one considered and thoughtfully chosen. His voice becomes soft, but certain, and level, sounding more like the Oscar he'd been in his dreams than the socially anxious one he's observed throughout the day. He continues.

"Here is my dilemma as I see it…" he flaps a hand as if to illustrate his uncertainty, "I don't like lying. I don't like keeping secrets. It's hurtful. But if I tell you, it might change the future dramatically and I won't be able to predict where we go from here in order to prevent more terrible things. And believe me, there are more. If I don't tell you and you die, then working so hard to get here was pointless. If I tell you things only as you need to know them, it feels really scummy and manipulative a-and what I want is your trust."

Ozpin watches Oscar thoughtfully, leaning ever so slightly forward to rest his chin atop his steepled fingers below which was his cane, taking careful note of his expression and body language.

According to Oscar, his death came with a due date and, although he hadn't directly said it, the boy had come here to save him despite any consequences. If true, then Oscar possessed all the qualities he looked for in Huntsmen: promise, tenacity, and a desire to protect others. What he said about his personal struggle, to tell him or not, or to tell him but only at certain times, felt real. Not only that, he felt he could empathize. It was similar to his own situation after all, although, he had long ago decided that it was better not to trust any one person with everything.

He couldn't risk betrayal.

Ozpin opens his mouth to inquire further, but the boy beats him to it once again.

"—But to be honest, I'm not sure you can be trusted yet."

Pardon?

It was abrupt and Oscar's voice had turned a little more agitated, a hard, newfound edge to it with touches of frustration and bitterness bleeding through despite the obvious effort to sound candid and noncombative. He was not a boy who was used to concealing his feelings, let alone lying, apparently. As was made more apparent by his literal laying out of his feelings about openly keeping a secret from him just now. (If true.)

"May… I ask for what reason?"

Oscar visibly squirms. He was becoming rapidly uncomfortable and upset in a way that Ozpin thought might be hard to fake. The boy looks away.

And then, when he didn't respond, Ozpin pressed, "Mr. Pine…?"

The boy closes his eyes for a second before standing up, hands shaking by his side. He's staring at his feet and moves as if to leave.

A frustrated sigh.

"I think that's enough for tonight."

Without understanding why, he reaches out to Oscar, a sense of a sense of crackling apprehension settling into his chest. Ozpin catches the boy's wrist just in time.

"Oscar!"

Their eyes meet.

Ozpin catches fleeting expressions of fear, sadness, anger. Anger is the emotion he settles on and is the thing that jerks the boy's hand away from Ozpin's like he was on fire.

"Because you left us when we needed you! You left me!"

With a pained expression and immediate, heavy regret, Oscar seems to realize what he said, face flushing red. For someone who'd just reacted in anger, he very quickly apologizes, excuses himself, and then dashes away leaving Ozpin reeling. Oh. Oh dear. Ozpin spirals wondering if he'd misjudged the situation because instead of war and Salem it sounded an awful lot like…

…Like a child being unable to contain finding disappointment in their parent, an outburst against dereliction of duty…

In a flash of horror, he frantically reviews instances of past sexual relationships he's had in this life. Oh no, oh dear…

"I know about her." Had he meant Salem o-or… ? He came here because he knew about "her" but also because he thought, or Seen, that Ozpin was going to die. And what might motivate someone young to rescue someone they'd only seen in a vision, or a dream and didn't know, unless they knew that person was their…

He remembered James saying, in his dream, "We didn't always see eye to eye, but I wish I could ask Ozpin what he thought of all this." If that was accurate, if for whatever inexplicable reason he was seeing snapshots of Oscar's future, then he had died and…

…And Oscar, maybe…

It was rare for Ozpin to lower his head, but he felt this warranted it. Had he…? Without knowing it…?

With whom…?

Oscar Pine: clairvoyant, future Oz…

…Or long lost son?

Perhaps, however unimaginable and singularly unique, all three.

Pyrrha couldn't sleep in the ballroom with all the noise of the other students. She felt restless so she went for a walk hoping to relax. She had a lot to live up to. Her parents had been disappointed she chose Beacon over Haven, but wholeheartedly supported her nonetheless, so she had to do her best. She'd been the top student in her class and had been showered with so many accomplishments and accolades that it was going to be hard trying not to let everyone she loved down.

But she worked hard because she wanted to be a Huntress, because there was nothing more she wanted to be, because it was worth it to help those around her, even if there was only the smallest chance.

While she was just nearing the front courtyard, she caught the tail end of a nighttime melodrama, although she saw she wasn't the only one. The Headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch was keeping an eye over the unfolding events as well.

"Because you left us when we needed you! Because you left me!"

She knew that voice, as she crept through the shadows, suddenly conscious of being spotted, Pyrrha saw Oscar rush back through the halls, scrubbing his face with his sleeve. Peeking out into the courtyard, she saw Professor Ozpin himself as if in shock. Once Oscar ran off, Glynda stepped outside, sitting down next to the Professor.

Ohhh. Well, that explained why a kid as young as Oscar had been admitted so early and why he'd looked lonely and anxious on the airship. He was the estranged Headmaster's son. Anyone would have a lot of complicated feelings coming here because of that and she could certainly understand why Oscar seemed so nervous to talk about himself. He probably didn't want people to know who he really was.

Out of everyone, Pyrrha thought she might be the best to understand what it was like to be self-conscious of the thoughts of others due to status, or position, or what people thought you'd earned or deserved—or what they thought you didn't deserve due to certain factors.

When she felt it was safe to do so without being noticed, her back to the quiet murmuring of Ozpin and Glynda, she left the shadows and crept back to her sleeping bag.

She made a silent promise to herself to watch over Oscar.

[A/N:

Oscar: how do you lie without lying? Maybe you tell the truth, but very vaguely? And then accidentally get upset.

Ozpin, throwing his hands dramatically out before him: I… have been a tErRiBlE FATHER. My long lost son is mAD at mE.

Oscar: No, wait, hang on a minute, I think there's been a misunderstanding…]