Wow, the last chapter was probably the best received thus far. There were still some grammar errors, sorry. I try to fix what I find, but I can't catch 'em all. Sadly. Also, sorry that this took so long. Got a bad case of writer's block, so it is still a tad short. Anyhow, let's get this show on the road!

I do not own Roosterteeth

or the rights to RWBY

and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.

"I am truly sorry, but the Valean Council is preventing me from sending any further rescue attempts for Mister Arc,"

Pyrrah sat on the edge of her bed, her empty gaze resting on the vacant bed of her leader. Ren and Nora both sat on their own beds, with Nora's ears covered by headphones and Ren's weapons in parts in front of him, however they too held empty looks in their eyes.

"The recovery of his… appendage, has dissuaded them from letting more Huntsman go in search of him,

Jaune's Aura levels sat on display for Pyrrah, it's fullness taunting her with the promise of his safety, as opposed to hours prior when they had read empty. Silent tears fell from her eyes, as they had been since returning from Ozpin's office. RWBY was in no better shape, if the wetness of their eyes when they too left to find solace in their quarters was any sign.

"Again, I am truly sorry, but,"

Nora removed her headphones as she stood up from her own bed, and Ren quickly followed suit. Pyrrah could only look up at the pair as they made their way over, eventually coming to rest on either side of her. They held each other close, a comforting anchor in the tide of grief that threatened to swallow them whole. They would never give up hope, no matter what the Council said. Jaune would come back to them. He would make it back home.

"It seems as though Jaune's fate is in his own hands now."

Jaune rose from his dreamless slumber with a groan, his muscles aching in protest at the prospect of sitting up. The sun was already halfway through the sky, if the ambient light was anything to go by. His mind was foggy, memories of the night before drifted through his head a slow pace. A… settlement? Yeah, and there were Grimm, and people?

A gasp left his lips as he quickly jumped up, his muscles continuing to protest. He paid them no mind as he began to panic. Are they alright? I need to find them, ASAP. With the new goal in mind, he quickly moved to start his march. Before he could even finish standing up, he was interrupted by a firm hand that forced him back to the ground, causing him to instinctively reach for his shield. His breath had quickened, heart pounding in his ears before a squeeze from the hand on his shoulder caused him to refocus on who exactly was holding him. The man before him smelled of dirt and a bit of persisting smoke. He had dark red roots to graying hair, a thick beard to match that covered much of his features. His deeply tanned skin was marred by scars on his forearms and one on his forehead that reached above a pair of steel gray eyes. His form was covered by a blood red longsleeve, whose sleeves were rolled up to his bicep. He wore a pair of denim jeans that tucked nicely into a pair of black combat boots. A war pick was resting on his back, but his empty hand was raised in an attempt at placating the young knight.

It worked well for Jaune, as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He nodded in response to the cocked eyebrow that the stranger gave him, resulting in the release of his shoulder. Jaune stood up slowly, wincing as his muscles ached. Dusting himself off only produced further agony, but he managed.

The man took the time to introduce himself as Cinn, and Jaune's assumption of him being an older hunter proved correct. By the time Jaune got all of his equipment gathered, Cinn was relaxing against a tree, recounting the tale of the night before.

"You had come 'cross me an' Myrtle jus' after our aura ran empty. It wasn't lookin' good 'till you showed up, divin' down like some one armed knight," Both men smiled at the thought, though one was considerably more embarrassed than the other at the description. Shaking his head, the old redhead continued.

"Anywho, after ye left, Myrtle took her kid and ran south, much to 'er chagrin, mind you. For meself, I wen' and found you fightin' a brother's damned Wendigo," Jaune shivered at the thought. It truly was a nightmare in hindsight. "So I looked at meself, figured that if you up and died on me, I wouldn't forgive meself. Not ever. So I helped, an'" He gestured to the surrounding forest, who responded with a rustling of leaves. "'Ere we are!"

Jaune nodded at the conclusion, glad the other two were most likely safe if what the man said was true. He couldn't help but worry, but he decided to shove it aside for now. For now he had to plan on what he was going to do. As if sensing his pensiveness, Cinn spoke up once more.

"Y'know, if ya headin' south, I could help ya along. You were… a'right wit' yer frisbee, but I could show ya a thing or two on the way." After delivering that blow to his pride, Cinn stood up, stretching his most likely stiff muscles as he let Jaune think about the idea. "Been needin' to head to Vale anyhow, so I'll pro'lly just tag along anyway."

That pretty much answered the only question held by Jaune, so he gave his affirmation.

"Yeah, figured I needed the practice. Feel free." To Jaune's confusion, Cinn dropped his pack on the ground, pulling his war pick off his back and into a low stance, legs wide and weapon ready. Jaune had but a moment to deploy his own shield before a bullet slammed into its front, staggering him as he tossed his pouch aside. Cinn took the chance to dash forward, hooking his shield with the pick. Jaune's eyes widened, and Cinn smirked, as the defensive tool was thrown to the side. Jaune's body followed, and the handle of the pick met his face rather abruptly, throwing him to the damp grass below.

Jaune rolled to the side, just avoiding the end of a war pick coming for his head. He slammed his shield upwards, the clang of metal on metal ringing out as he hit the haft of the pick. Cinn kept up the pressure, forcing Jaune's form to sink into the earth, before he suddenly stopped. Jaune, who had closed his eyes in effort, opened them to see Cinn holding out a hand for Jaune to grab. He did so, if a bit reluctantly. He had a question on his mind, and so, he voiced it.

"The hell was that?" Jaune asked incredulously.

"Trainin'. Better git used to it, 'cause yer gon' be getting lot of it. Now take up yer stance." Jaune did so, the familiar stance drilled into him by Pyrrah showing through. There were a couple holes in it though, and they were pointed out very carefully by Cinn.

"Angle yer shield differently. The way yer holdin' it now, a splash weapon will go right inta yer face. Also, angle yer body different too. Ye've only got a shield, so make sure yer not in a stance that leaves yer left open as much." Jaune followed the instructions, receiving help form Cinn in the form of firm prods with the sharp end of a war pick.

"Better. Now, on yer toes. We're just getting started, Newbie."