Snow crunched underfoot as the hooded man walked the streets of Mantle. Looking around, he could only offer a disgusted sneer at what he saw. Faunus and humans alike huddled together around barrels of fire for warmth. None of them cared what the others were, so long as they could provide any amount of body heat to the group. Up above, as usual, Atlas lorded over the poor below in their skyward city. Home to the military, politicians, and the SDC, the floating landmass quite literally had Mantle in its shadow.

The kingdom was a place that held many memories for him, most of them unpleasant. Fighting every day for his food, shelter, or clothing. Forced to bear the yoke of the dust corporation for the pittance they offered. Watching, helpless, as friends and loved ones died under the watch of their masters. And when he'd had the temerity to stand up for himself against the humans who ruled over him, his own screams of agony still echoed in his mind as he recalled the searing iron being pressed to his face.

It went without saying that Adam Taurus held no love for the kingdom known as Atlas.

Just as undeniable, was the fact that he was wanted dead, rather than alive by the authorities in the city. With a snarl, he pulled his hood down further. While he was most recognizable by the Grimm-like mask he wore so often, his face was also most likely known by many. Due in large part to the repulsive mark that his slave drivers had placed on him.

As he continued his trudge down the sidewalk, he was stopped suddenly when he felt a slight tug at his trousers. Looking down at the disturbance, he was greeted by a wiry young faunus girl.

"I'm sorry, sir," she whispered. She was trembling, whether from cold or terror, Adam couldn't tell. "But, do you have any spare lien? Me and my brother are so hungry."

On cue, a second child - a little smaller than her - ran up and stood behind her. Adam felt a swell of rage boil up inside him. That these children were made to suffer in poverty, starving, while others sat, fat and happy, at their tables; it was abhorrent.

Kneeling down, he raised a hand to the girl's shoulder and winced when she flinched away. "It's alright," he said. "Here. Take it, buy yourselves some food or warmer clothes." He placed a modest sum of money in her hand, closing her fingers around it.

With his other, he lifted his hood slightly to look her in the eye. "Things will get better soon. I promise you." He regretted how she paled and backed away at the site of his face, but it was the effect he had on people. His own included.

It was why he was so successful in the White Fang. Humans made them out to be animals, monsters who killed with impunity. He just so happened to play that role perfectly.

Too perfectly, if Siena was to be believed.

Oh, what a rude awakening that had been upon his return to the organization's headquarters. Instead of being greeted with open arms and heralded as a hero of the faunus, she had ridiculed him and spat on his actions in Vale. She didn't understand that to achieve real victory, the humans needed to fear and respect the faunus the faunus. Their goal could never be realized without sacrifice.

It was for that reason that High Leader Khan had him shipped, thousands of miles northward, to Atlas. He was to lead raids against the SDC and Atlas military for the next few months.

"Maybe the cold air will clear your mind," she had said.

His thoughts had never been more focused. He had never been so in tune with the goal of the Fang. But he was a loyal servant of the faunus, and he would go wherever he was needed. If that was on the tundra, sending a message to Atlas, or in Mistral, bolstering the ranks, he would go.

And wherever Adam Taurus went, a river of spilled human blood was sure to run soon enough.

/-/

"Dead."

"Dead."

"Dead," Winter stated plainly, holding her saber inches from Weiss's throat. "You are wearing down."

Weiss was panting heavily, her skin shone with sweat, and her hair was matted and frayed. Her ordinarily perfect posture was now slumped, and she favored one leg over the other.

"Well, obviously," her little sister said, a tinge of annoyance in her tone. "We have been sparring for two hours, though calling it that would be generous." She was hinting at the fact that Winter had beaten her at every turn. Where Weiss used her semblance, she had already countered it in six different ways. When she parried a blow, Winter had slipped into her guard to land a follow-up strike.

She supposed it was a testament to her rigorous training as an Atlas Specialist. However, it also may have had something to do with Weiss's lack of training of any sort for the past two months. In short, she was rusty.

"And yet," Winter countered, "I am showing no sign of fatigue, whereas you look as though you are ready to collapse." Where Weiss appeared tired and out of sorts, she barely even had a hair out of place. There was a light sheen of sweat on her brow, but other than that, Winter looked completely normal.

Weiss scowled and retrieved Myrtenaster from where Winter had disarmed her.

"You lack the endurance typical of a huntress at your level. Even during the Vytal festival, you couldn't hope to match your partner's stamina."

"Ruby has a speed semblance!"

"And you can propel yourself through the air using your glyphs." Winter sheathed her blade and stepped up to her sister, taking the stance of a drill instructor. "But I am not referring to her speed; I am talking about your inability to keep going in combat for more than a few minutes."

Weiss frowned, but Winter knew she understood what she was getting at. Weiss relied on her semblance and speed to end fights quickly. However, the longer an engagement dragged out, the higher the chance she was to make a mistake or burn herself out. If her opponent possessed the agility necessary to avoid her various attacks, the girl was at a severe disadvantage.

Winter had much the same in her beginning years at Atlas academy. She had also sported quite the temper, which often reared its ugly head in sparring - particularly when against a student of a higher caliber. "A flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long," Winter recalled one of her instructors saying. At the time, she'd thought it an ironic jab at her, though, now, she understood it was a suggestion to learn control over herself.

Weiss had her beaten for the most part in that department, though she still needed to work on gaining mastery over her body.

"All that aside," Winter said with a sigh, "you have improved since you first went off to Beacon. If I recall correctly, you couldn't even summon a glyph before I had your aura in the red, back then." She knew, of course, that the young heiress would have grown in terms of skill at the school, they would not have even been in business if they couldn't help their students improve. That didn't stop her from offering a compliment to her little sister, though.

It also didn't stop Weiss's from cheeks from reddening at hearing it. "Thank you," she curtsied. Then, with expectant eyes, she asked, "Shall we go another round?"

Winter could not help the smile that tugged at her lips. For all the younger girl's blustering a minute before, she truly did enjoy this. A feeling with which she could commiserate. On many a lonely night, Winter longed to be in the company of her family, flawed as it was.

But that had long since passed as a possibility. Those bridges had been burned thanks to actions from both sides. However, she was here now and had precious little time before Jacques returned home. Now was not the time to be ruminating on past mistakes.

She checked the time on her scroll, then looked up to Weiss once more. Again, taking note of her condition. Despite her eagerness to continue, the younger girl could barely stand up straight without her limbs quivering. In the field, a wounded huntress would be shown no mercy, whatever state she was in.

But they weren't in the field, and Weiss was not a huntress.

"I'm afraid not," Winter folded her hands behind her back and approached her sister.

Weiss looked shocked and a little dismayed. "But-but we still have time before father comes home. I'm sure we can fit one more spar in." Her tone took on a pleading lilt. "Please, Winter, this is the first bit of training I've gotten in-"

"Enough!" The single shouted word plunged the room into silence. "While you do need to make up for lost time, pushing yourself past your limit will only end badly. Were we to continue, you would only wind up injuring yourself."

"But…"

"But nothing. You did well today. But there is only so much one can do in a day."

The younger girl's shoulders sagged slightly, and Winter felt the smallest pang of regret. Just as Weiss had enjoyed their time together, so had she. All too often, she had allowed her duties to get in the way of those closest to her. Placing her hand on Weiss's shoulder, her gaze softened. "Weiss, it's not as if this is the last you'll see of me. Far from it, actually."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Now that you are here, and I am not set to leave the kingdom any time soon, we will have plenty of time to spend with one another. Provided I'm not shipped out on any missions, that is." In fact, Winter wondered why she hadn't considered that before now. Indeed, she was being kept busy by general Ironwood, but she did have a few hours to herself each day. It would be good to actually do something with that time for a change. Mostly, she kept herself occupied by just never taking any of the time off she was offered.

Weiss seemed to accept the suggestion, too, as her face livened up a bit. "In that case, I suppose we have done quite a lot of training today. If you need to leave, I shouldn't stop you."

Winter smiled. "Yes. I do. It wouldn't end well if I was to run into father on my way out."

"Well then, since Klein is busy, allow me to walk you out," Weiss's posture straightened as much as she could, given her exhausted state.

The two of them padded through the halls, only exchanging a few words here and there. Neither was happy at Winter leaving, but both knew it had to happen.

"It was good to see you, Weiss," Winter bowed slightly as they reached the main foyer.

The younger Schnee returned the gesture. "And you as well, I do hope we can do it again soon."

As she retrieved her coat from the rack, Winter nodded. "I'll call when next I'm free. Goodbye, sister."

At that moment, before Weiss had a chance to respond, the door swung open. A gust of frigid, Atlesian air blew in, but it was nothing compared to the icy stare of the man stood in the entryway.

"Winter," he sneered.

Any and all happiness that she had been feeling drained from her expression, only to be replaced by a face of pure emotionlessness. Linking her hands behind her back and straightening her stance, she looked Jacques Schnee in the eyes.

"Hello, father."

There we go. Late, as I said, but done. It's taking a bit longer to adjust to my new class schedule than expected, but I'll get there.

Now, if we're done here, I'm off to finish this week's chapter of Mirrored Eyes.