Winter shifted over her notes.
-"Sixteen centuries ago in Orleans, on the Red Morning, every male faunus older than 14 was put to the blade."
There were some surprised faces in the audience.
-"Arabella Arc sold her herbs shop and used every last coin to buy all the surviving faunus she could. They fled the city, only to face the Nevermore nesting grounds and the treacherous tar pits. When a messenger found their caravan he warned them: the army was being mobilized, by nightfall you will be slaughtered along with your pets."
Winter was disgusted to see some approving nods here and there.
She marshaled on.
-"They were on open ground, as it is known to be the favoured terrain of Nevermores. With no combatants, no weapons and no forest in sight to hide, desperate does a poor job to convey their despair."
A smile crept upon her voice.
-"But a Desperate Arc is a Crazy Arc." She pressed the remote and an illustration depicted a tarred and feathered faunus. "Arabella was a herbalist by trade and told them to chew on Sleepy Roots, a bush used in sleeping concoctions. In a trance-like haze, their fear didn't shine as much. When the army descended upon them in the witching hours, the Nevermores had to choose."
Another click.
The screen displayed a soldier clad in bronze, his polished armor shining like burnished gold.
-"Between shining emotional humans and feather clad, emotionally numb shapes. Which were just the size of a Nevermore hatchling."
The Major General by Ironwood's left gave a rueful grin.
-"If it's stupid but it works…"