"Do you know what's the worst part about camping?" Spirit rubs at his arms, "Mosquitos!"

"O-no," Rig chimes in, "Another all-you-can-eat Spirit buffet?"

"Rig, you're just happy because these useless gnats keep going after me instead of you!"

"Hey, I'm type A."

The nighttime air settles lightly around them. After a few hours of travel, the pines had begun to gradually mix in with stouter, flower-bearing trees, accompanying an increase in the lively sounds of chirps, squeaks, and caws emanating from tree-hole apartments. Small crystalline beehives hanging like fruit from branches glow faintly yellow, mercifully scattering a perfumed smell of honey amid the three worn-out travellers sitting in a triangle.

Spirit loudly smacks one of his arms again, "GAH! I swear, if these things turn into Grimm, it's all over for humanity!"

"We wouldn't have to worry about that if we had a roof over our heads," Kanoa reminds him, "Where's the next rest stop anyways? I didn't pack sleeping bags with me, you know."

As she turns to Rig, Rig turns to Spirit, who turns his focus away from the mini-bloodsuckers.

"We're heading east," Spirit replies, "There's a coast by there, so we're bound to hit a village as long as we stick-"

"Bound to hit a village?" Kanoa tilts her head to the side. "Did you guys get lost on your way here?"

"No, we didn't. It's just that..." Spirit hesitates, "This particular place we're looking for is a little obscure on maps. We know it's around this general area, but not much else."

"Huh? Have you never been to this place before?" Kanoa asks.

"No, but someone we knew did," Spirit explains, "We're actually looking for this place for her."

"Nimaaa!" Rig chirps, "It's always better to get the harder things out of the way first, right? Cuz then the last part's always easier."

Spirit responds to Rig's smile with a glare. Kanoa is too busy shaking her head to notice.

"So, let me get this straight," Kanoa begins, "You guys set out for a village only your friend knew… without actually knowing its name or exact place on a map?"

"Yep!" Rig nods.

"... Common sense entirely aside, why didn't this 'Nima' come with you then?"

Spirit and Rig go sullen.

"Well, that's because… " Rig's mouth wrings itself into neutral, "She couldn't."

"Oh," Kanoa says, straightening her back, "Oh, wow. I'm sorry."

"In any case, knowing Nima, we would have imagined her village would have had at least one family of Faunus in it. And, judging by you and the other villagers… " Spirit's eyes scan Kanoa's figure from top to bottom, "You don't fit the description."

Kanoa's forehead twitches as she glances over to Rig, "Did he just ogle me?"

Rig shrugs playfully, "Wait- there's times when he doesn't?"

"Harr, harr," Spirit rolls his eyes, "Seriously though, there weren't any Faunus in your village, right?"

"Well you could say I grew up there or something, so you bet I would have seen one," Kanoa answers.

"Yeah, I figured," Spirit says, "From tomorrow onward, we're heading east. If you don't want to tag along, now would be a pretty good time to turn around."

"I think I've already settled on my choice," Kanoa replies, garnering a fist pump from Rig in the background.

Spirit nods, "Then it's settled."

"Cool beans!" Rig cheers. He flips on his side, pulling an imaginary blanket over himself, "Early Grimm get the Hunters!"

"That's… dark. But Rig's right," Kanoa comments before getting up, "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to get my beauty sleep somewhere else."

Spirit chimes in, "You sure you want to do that? I could keep watch while you sleep."

"Uh, that's exactly why I'm sleeping separately from you guys," she replies, slinging her sack of belongings over her shoulder and walking off, "Night."

"Night!" Rig turns to Spirit, "You're not gonna fall asleep again though, are you?"

"The sooner you sleep, the less likely that'll happen," Spirit replies.

Rig giggles before all goes quiet again. Spirit lays his head back against the soft bark of the flowering tree. He slaps at another tingling sensation on his arm as he stares up at the stars.

-XX・XX-

"Where do you think you're going, Spirit?"

The dark figure in the room freezes in place. From the corner, a tall lamp clicks on. Even with just the faint, orange glow illuminating the area, it was enough. Spirit can make out Mom standing with her hands clasped by her heart and Father sitting in the wooden armchair by her.

Spirit breathes in, still keeping his eyes on the door just a few feet in front of him.

"My ship is leaving."

"To where?" Father asks.

"You already know where, don't you?"

"Only a rough idea by these."

Father tosses two books onto the ground in front of him. Just by the color of the spines alone, Spirit knows their titles. "Basics of Weapon Crafting" and "Grimm Survival Tactics." Atop them is an envelope brandishing Vale's insignia, its lip torn open.

"I'm uncertain as to what disturbs me more," Father continues, "this, or the filth I've been finding in your room."

"You looked through my stuff. Again."

"You sleep under our roof, eat our food, and wear the clothes we gifted you. You even used the money we entrusted you with to buy these books. What is wrong with my actions?"

"Everything!" Spirit yells, "Everything is wrong!"

"Keep your voice down. Do not disturb the neighbors," Father instructs. He picks up the empty envelope, pulling out a sheet hand-ripped at the bottom. "This letter had a ticket attached to it. I've known you are going to Signal tonight, but I am asking where are you heading beyond that."

"To Beacon Academy."

Mom chokes a sob as she looks down. Father shifts on his chair, puffing out his chest.

"Do you think we are ignorant of the world? Are you trying to become a Bodhisattva?"

"I don't know, Father!" Spirit turns to him, "Even with all these books, I literally don't know anything! If life is beautiful enough to be reincarnated in, then I'd imagine there's a lot more to the world beyond miles and miles of sand!"

"I told you to keep your voice down."

"You're not getting it, are you?" Spirit says, maintaining his tone. "I'm done. I'm through with being caged in here and neither of you are changing that."

"Spirit, please! You're going to hurt yourself!" Mom rushes for him, grabbing one of his wrists.

"Mom, no!" Spirit wrestles against her iron grip. "Let go!"

"My baby boy, you can't go!"

"Stop it!"

With all his strength, he pulls in the opposite direction, breaking her hold. Mom falls to the ground, but she stays down as her sobs grow worse.

"Is this how you treat the woman who toiled to bring you into this world?!" Father jolts up, "I thought we taught you better!"

Spirit says nothing as he turns back to the door. He takes a step forward.

"Stop!" Father cries as Spirit takes a few more steps forward. "The moment you take a single step out of that door, you are no longer our son!"

Spirit pauses just as his hand wraps around the doorknob. Everything was too blurry with the lamp so far away and his tears obscuring his vision, but by muscle memory, he knows where the lock is.

It clicks.

"Fine," he says, his words quivering as much as the wrist he's using to turn the handle. "I'm sorry I couldn't stick to tradition."

-XX・XX-

"What a liar," Rig yucks, poking Spirit's sleeping face.

Two stomachs rumbling in symphony alert him to the presence of Kanoa, coming through the brush.

"You want some food or something?" she asks, rubbing her baggy eyes.

"Yes ma'am," Rig responds, jumping up to his feet.

Kanoa yawns, "M'alright, let's find some."

Rig frowns, cocking his head, "Are you ok?"

Kanoa limply waves a hand, "Yeah, Idunno. Couldn't sleep too good."

"Nervous cuz you're leaving the village for the first time?" Rig asks.

"A little bit," she replies, "That, and I had the strangest feeling that someone was watching me."

"You sure it wasn't Spirit?" Rig asks.

"As likely as that is, I don't think it was him."

Spirit shivers a little, sniffling as he comes to life.

"Morning Spirit. Sleep well?" Rig asks.

"Mheskfnasdjf. Kind of."

"And you learned how to speak Grimm, too!"

Spirit waves Rig away with his arm. As he does so, he hears a clinking sound come from his hookshot.

"What the-?" Spirit stares at the hookshot on his right arm. "Oh no, don't tell me this thing's busted…"

"Great. While you fix that, you can hold camp and watch my stuff," Kanoa adds, dropping her sack in front of him with a thud as they walk off. "Rig and I are going to get us something to eat."

Spirit rubs the back of his head, tussling his hair to get rid of bits of bark and pollen, "On the off chance you find any waffles, let me know."

Slipping his arm out of the latches, he brings the device to rest in his lap. Spirit groans once he pops open the box resting atop the wrist area, muttering, "Well this isn't good."

He notices a weak crackling sound coming from somewhere, and lifts the mechanism to his ear. Strangely enough, it's not coming from there.

Perking his ears, Spirit gropes the grass around him to make sure nothing fell off his hookshot. He finds nothing until his hand brushes up against the sack Kanoa left lying on the ground. The sound seems to be emanating from inside.

He withdraws his hand, hovering it over her belongings as he ponders his options. After a short while, Spirit decides and quickly reaches in, grabbing onto a cold rectangular box and pulling it out. What looks like a radio receiver hums lightly in his hand, and although no voices come through, it's certainly the buzz he was looking for.

He stares at it for a little bit longer than he should, as if expecting a voice to come out, and then shuts it off, tossing it back into the bag. Without any spare motions, he returns to working on his hookshot.

"Let's see if I remember how to do this."

-XX・XX-

"So, tell me something," Kanoa says, adding a small blueberry to a handful, "What's it like to go around doing whatever you want?"

Crouching, Rig turns around suddenly, giving her a deer caught in the headlights look with his mouth plastered red and cheeks stuffed.

Kanoa lets out a deep belly laugh, "I see."

Rig swallows as much as he can, "It'sh not what it looksh like- I just got hungry so I ate a bunch of berriesh."

Continuing to laugh, she asks, "How is that not exactly what it looks like?"

"I- uh. Well, it'sh Shpirit's fault we didn't eat anything before we left!" he says mid-chew, blowing a literal raspberry by accident.

Kanoa raises an eyebrow, "Can't you have one conversation without mentioning Spirit?"

Rig stops chewing. "Well, what's so bad about that?"

"I don't know, it's just a little weird that you keep bringing him up."

"That's cuz he's the team leader. He's the most important member of the team!" Rig smiles.

"Riiight. But what does being team leader mean exactly in a team of two?"

"Well, we didn't used to be a team of two when we had Flora and Nima. Now, though, I guess he always makes the plans and tells me what to do."

"Sounds like he bosses you around a lot."

"No, it's more like-" Rig trails off, thinking.

"Like what?"

Returning to a smile, Rig says, "He's a little strict, but he's so cool if you get to know him, you know?"

"If you're trying to make him look good in front of me it's not gonna work," she teases.

"No, I mean it. He's really cool."

Kanoa rolls her eyes, "Sure thing," then tastes a yellow berry, frowning at its overpowering sourness.

Rig finally begins to start gathering some berries into his other hand.

"What about you?" Kanoa asks.

"Me? Oh that's easy! I-." he cuts himself off, "don't like these berries too much, actually."

"No, seriously, tell me something about yourself," she frowns.

"My favorite color is green?" Rig offers.

Kanoa releases an exasperated sigh, "Ok, fine. Listen, if that's your shtick, I'll leave you to it."

She starts getting up before Rig yelps out, "Wait, no-"

Kanoa turns to him, "I'm listening."

"I used to be pretty good friends with a bunch of people back at Beacon. And eventually, I even became friends with my team. Nima was really outgoing and stuff, and Flora was a little quiet, and- well... I guess I don't have too many friends now, but-"

"Now you're just telling me about all the people you knew," she responds as she gets up.

"Sorry," Rig mumbles, looking downcast at the berries in his hands.

"Don't worry about it," Kanoa says, patting him on the shoulder, "Let's just get these berries back to Spirit before he starves."

-XX・XX-

"Ugh," Spirit frowns as he lifts up one of the rusted gears in his hookshot, inspecting it under the late morning sun. "All this worn, old junk… I should've asked Kanoa for some spare parts."

"We're baaaaack!" Rig yells on cue.

Spirit lowers the piece of metal in his hands as he watches Rig and Kanoa drop their handfuls of berries onto the ground.

"Oh. Nice," Spirit picks up one of the tiny fruits between two fingers, "As if I wasn't skinny enough. What I wouldn't do for some grilled fish right about now..."

"Well excuse me, Princess, but there hasn't been a single river in miles," Kanoa places a hand on her hips. "And last I checked, fish don't exactly swim in the ground now, do they?"

"I really hope you're wrong on that 'miles' part," Spirit shoves a handful of berries in his mouth, "Our map doesn't have Vale's smaller rivers drawn on it for whatever reason. Rivers usually mean civilization."

"Hey, like I said! It's always better to get the harder things out of the way first, right?" Rig reminds them.

"That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about while you were gone," Spirit says. "I've been doing some thinking and I've realized maybe it's a bad idea to go after Nima's village first, especially on a lack of supplies. I think we should set course for Anchor instead, seeing as to how close it should be from here."

"Anchor?" Kanoa asks, "So that's where Flora lived, right?"

"Okay. Rig," Spirit turns to his partner, frowning. "You need to seriously watch what you're saying in front of other people. Our history isn't an open book."

"But I didn't say anything!" Rig protests.

"I figured that much out myself. Besides, what's the big deal?" Kanoa steps forward, "If we're going to be travelling together, shouldn't we be transparent about things?"

"Let me put it this way," He presses the palms of his hands together in a prayer-like fashion, moving them down. "Imagine if the moment we heard about your grandfather we immediately started asking questions prodding into who he was and what he did. Would you feel comfortable with that?"

"That's not the same thing though." Kanoa crosses her arms, "Me asking you about your friends isn't just out of curiosity. Those two are the reason you and Rig are running around in the first place, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then that's exactly my point. I should know more about them too if they're that important to this journey. I may even be able to help you guys if I know anything."

"But," Spirit continues, "The thing is, you'd have the choice to share that information and nobody else. I don't feel comfortable with Rig sharing our personal histories the same way you wouldn't feel comfortable if the Elder said something about your grandfather."

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Kanoa's tone turns sharp as she narrows her eyes, "Those aren't just your friends. They're Rig's too. If Rig wants to share something about them, what right do you have to censor and control him?"

"Excuse me, but how long do you think you've been travelling with us?"

"Guys," Rig steps between them, "Look, it's not a big deal. I'll just ask Spirit before I say anything else, alright? Besides, don't we have something more important to worry about?"

Kanoa takes a deep breath, "Earlier, you said you were having some technical problems. We could go back to Vivica and restock while we're turning back around."

Rig and Spirit respond with blank stares. Kanoa raises an eyebrow.

"You know, Vivica? My village?"

"Oh!" Spirit exclaims, "Oh, of course! Yeah, we knew that."

"Wait, we did?" Rig asks, "I thought the name wasn't on our map-?"

Spirit bites his lower lip as he looks at Rig, silencing him. Kanoa sighs.

"It's fine. You guys weren't there for long, anyways."

"In any case, get your stuff ready," Spirit pockets the remainder of the berries, "We're heading to Anchor after a quick stop at Vivica."

"I… don't like that idea," Rig mumbles.

"Rig," Spirit presses his index finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose. "I'm not going to repeat myself. What are you being so stubborn about?"

"No, I totally get what you mean. It's just that, I…" Rig pauses on his next line, "I think you need to clear things up with Nima first."

Everyone freezes in place. The atmosphere grows tense, and it gets a little hard to breathe.

"Wait!" Rig announces, "Something smells like smoke!"

"What, again?" Spirit recoils, "Where's this coming from?"

"Over there!" Rig points and gets moving, as if scrambling to outrun the reach of his finger.

"Rig, wait! AGH!" Spirit scrambles to make last-minute readjustments to his hookshot. He turns to Kanoa. "We'll be back in a bit, just stay put for now!"

Kanoa gives Spirit one brief glance of understanding before he bolts after his friend. As the two of them bolt off into the distance, Kanoa rubs her eyes and starts rummaging through her bag. She pulls out the receiver device and clicks it on. Nothing but static comes out until she twists a thimble dial back and forth until the prickly sound mellows out just right.

A lightly crackling silence sits unbroken, but so does Kanoa. She waits, ear near the receiver, weary eyes closed, and breath bated. The woodland sounds fade as her ears strain to pick up any distinguishing noise at all.

Minutes pass. Perhaps longer.

Kanoa bites her lip to keep herself focused, and anxious hope is born as a single sweat drop crawls down her forehead. The silence continues. Even though her hand hurts, she grips the receiver tighter and tighter. Suddenly, a door creaks in the distance.

And then, voices.

Mumbles at first. They grow clearer, emerging from muffled syllables as sounds of shuffling footsteps gather somewhere close to the microphone on the other end. Half a dozen wooden chairs scrape on an old floor, and then the thuds of butts and the heavy slam of a door further away.

A single throat clears.

"We need to do something about Kanoa," The Elder says.

Her eyes rip themselves open and her heart begins to pound and twist.

"Yes, yes," another voice pipes in.

"She has made a poor choice in judgement. Abandoning us to run away with those outsiders."

Her chest keeps tightening.

"We have to do something about her," a third voice mutters, receiving hushed mumbles of approval.

"Yes, she's been acting out ever since the last Elder passed," the second voice responds.

"But she's the grandchild of an Elder, wouldn't it cause more problems to try to silence her?" a fourth, skeptical voice asks softly, "Besides, Kanoa would never-"

"Are you seriously suggesting we do nothing about that girl? Have you gone soft merely because the outsiders saved your skin?" the Elder booms.

There's a brief silence punctuated by a dry, crackling cough.

"Then tonight," the Elder resumes, "We'll hold a meeting with the villagers. It'll give us a chance to explain everything, including how the recent Grimm attacks have been her fault."

At the last part, she drops the radio receiver and start shivering. There's a slight pause before the second and third voice agree.

"Here, here," and the chairs start squeaking again.

Heaving rapidly, Kanoa picks the receiver back up and clicks it off, then throws it in the sack and rushes out of the camp in silence.

-XX・XX-

Unable to use his hookshots to catch up to Rig, Spirit barely manages to keep track of the constantly shifting tuft of cargo pants that keeps disappearing left and right between trees. He runs blindly into a large bush, spiky branches whipping him as he tumbles through, and emerges into a small clearing where Rig stands over an ash-covered pit.

"Looks like a campfire was here."

"Yeah," Spirit heaves, picking pieces of bush out of his robe shirt.

"It's been put out recently for us to have noticed the smell."

"I-" he coughs, "Still don't know how you did that."

"Must have something to do with this," Rig says, crouching down and picking up a burned piece of something on a similarly blackened stick, "They were making food here, Spirit."

"More importantly-" Spirit's brows jump up in realization, "who was making food here?"

"Could it be that hooded guy?"

"Well, Kanoa did say we were being followed."

"You would be correct," a gruff voice comes out from the trees to their left.

Rig and Spirit turn to see the familiar grey and brown form of the hooded Hunter step out from around a tree trunk. Although the shadow of the hood cuts off everything above the bridge of his nose, the pair can still shiver at the overconfident sneer radiating out at them.

"Although, not just by me it seems," he adds, stretching his arms.

"W-what do you mean by that?" Spirit asks, backing off.

"You think I'd be obvious enough to leave a campfire like that laying around?"

"Especially one so close I could smell it," Rig chimes in.

"Exactly."

"Just who's side are you on?!" Spirit yells at Rig.

"Not sure," he replies with a giggle, whipping out his axe.

The Hunter circles his neck around.

"You boys ready for a lesson?"

-XX・XX-