AWOO, everybody! It's Werewolf Friday and we're back with our favorite roadtrip buddies. I seriously can't get enough of writing these three.

Enjoy!

"Hm…" Roman tapped his chin as he looked between two horses. One was a bay gelding while the other was a gray mare. The gelding was a bit stockier and looked like he would be able to go at an even pace for a long time. The mare, on the other hand, was younger and a bit more spirited while also showing a good amount of strength when the stable owner demonstrated her pulling skills. "What do you think, Qrow?"

"The bay one," Qrow muttered, taking a swig from his flask.

"Why do you like the bay?"

"I honestly don't care. I just want you to make a damn decision so we can find a pub already," the Huntsman groaned.

Roman scowled. "For your information, this is a very important choice. The horse I pick will be my cart horse for the next couple years. I need to choose a good one."

"I think the bay would be the best choice," Barty noted. "Considering the company you're currently traveling with, a calmer demeanor would definitely be beneficial."

"An actual helpful opinion! Thank you!" Roman patted Barty's shoulder before turning to the owner. "I'll be back in the afternoon to test out the bay, if you can have him ready for me."

"Aye, sir. You and your friends have a good eye for horses. This one'll stand firm, even through a Grimm attack." The owner patted the bay's flank. "Be seeing you!"

The three walked down the road toward the nearest inn. "Honestly, just because you're a drunk doesn't mean you have to act so brash everywhere we go."

Qrow rolled his eyes. "I'm a Huntsman. My job is to kill Grimm, not make nice with people. Unless those people are attractive barmaids, but that's more personal than it is business."

"Why don't you use some of that supposed suaveness that you use on the women on the people around you? It may make certain interactions easier," Roman suggested.

Qrow raised an eyebrow. "You want me to go back there and ask that guy if he thinks his 'riding experience' is as good as mine?"

Barty covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. "Dear me, you are quite the roguish pair. No one will suspect me of being the wolf of this party, even if people do catch onto us."

"Aw, shut up specs," Qrow grumbled.

"For the record, I am not so crude when seducing ladies," Roman pointed out. "And I'm willing to bet that my success rate is significantly higher than the drunk old bird's."

At this, Qrow's red eyes glimmered. "Ya think so, huh?"

Barty glanced between the two, already sensing what was coming. "Oh dear…"

"I do," Roman said, folding his arms. "And I'm willing to prove it."

"Please don't…" Barty muttered.

"Okay," Qrow said with a grin. "Whoever gets the most propositions between now and when we get back to Obsidian wins. Two points if we actually sleep with them."

"This is most certainly a terrible idea," Barty pointed out, his words falling on deaf ears.

"How do I know you won't lie about the numbers?" Roman asked.

Qrow put a hand over his heart, a wounded expression coming to his face. "You think I'd lie about something like that? It's one of the three things I'm actually serious about, the first two being looking out for my family and killing Grimm."

Roman nodded slowly. "I suppose I can trust you. Still, let's shake on it. Traders' honor. Barty shall be our witness."

"Do leave me out of this," Barty said flatly. "Only terrible things can come of this wager. You don't need to be a scholar to know that women don't like being made into betting chips!"

"Hey, it's not like we'll be lying about loving them or anything," Qrow said, holding up his hands. "I'm always real clear about wanting one-night stands."

"I can't help but wonder how many bastard children have been fathered between the two of you."

"Easy, now," Roman soothed. "I always provide my special formula to the women I meet. Guaranteed to prevent that from happening."

"And what about you?" Barty asked Qrow.

Qrow shrugged. "Eh. You don't have to go at it the traditional way." He winked, sticking out his tongue suggestively. "More than one way to polish a sword."

Barty shook his head. "I don't know whether to be disgusted or impressed. At this point, I'm not surprised." He let out a yawn. "Whatever we decide, I say we find an inn right away. Running low on energy. Need coffee to wake me up."

"We're sleeping once we reach the inn, though."

Barty adjusted his glasses. "Impossible! Need to wake up before I fall asleep."

"That makes no sense," Qrow said.

"Doesn't it though?" Barty straightened up. "That place looks promising. Hurry along, now!" With that, the werewolf zipped off toward the inn.

Qrow shook his head. "Hope his scarf doesn't come off."

Roman shrugged. "He's probably used to this by now. He's been hiding in villages all his life."

The two started toward the inn. "So…you serious about this bet?" Qrow asked.

"Of course. Why, do you not think you can do it?"

"Ha! Fat chance, ponce! I was just giving you one more shot at giving up without looking stupid."

"I will not be the one looking stupid," Roman said, tipping his hat. "As you will soon find out when I win this wager."

"What should the prize be?" Qrow asked.

"Items of value?"

"I like the way you think." Qrow scratched his chin. "Tell you what. If you win, I'll give you a set of high-quality daggers. I'll bring one back from Vale for you to look at if I can get to my house. Won't be easy, though. Gotta stay hidden from the Elders…"

Roman's eyes lit up. "New stock would be nice. If you win, your prize will have to be a bit late, since I need to stock up again. Once I do, however, how does a pick of fifty silver pieces' worth of merchandise sound?"

Qrow nodded. "That sounds about what those daggers would be worth. Shake on it?"

The two shook hands before entering the inn, where Barty was already cheerfully chugging his third cup of black coffee.

The following day, after adding a tally mark to his new bet against Roman, Qrow quietly slipped out of the inn and headed back toward the farms. At the nearest one, he asked if there were any places with a new litter of pups for sale. He was quickly pointed to one of the outer farms.

The head farmer was all too happy to take Qrow into the barn, where a place had been set aside for three puppies that looked like they had been recently weaned from their mother. One was a gentle-eyed sable female, one was a growling red male, and one was a black male with floppy ears and a dopey grin on his face.

"The red and the sable pups already have owners," the farmer commented. "The black one has been giving me some trouble. Lot of personality, that one."

Qrow knelt down to examine the black corgi. "Hey, boy," he called.

Immediately, the dopey-faced pup bounded over, crouching down and snapping at Qrow's hand. When Qrow reached out to pet him, he darted back and started bouncing up and down on his hind legs.

"He's an odd one," the farmer admitted. "Whenever there's a Grimm attack, the others hide. He just runs straight at the door, barking and growling, acting as if he's some trained wardog." He shook his head. "He'll be good at warning you of an intruder, but you'll want to keep him under lock and key."

Qrow grinned as he looked at the smiling pup. "He sounds perfect. What's his name?"

"We're calling them Ein, Zwei, and Drei until they go to their owners. That one's the second to be born, so he's Zwei."

"Huh. Well, that's as good a name as any." Qrow scratched the pup behind the ear. "I'm leaving Roan today. Is he old enough for me to take with me?"

"Er, well yes," the farmer said uncertainly. "Are you sure you can handle him while traveling?"

Qrow snorted. "Believe it or not, I've traveled with bigger dogs." He chuckled privately at his joke as he reached into his pocket. "How much?"

After paying, Qrow hooked little Zwei to a leash and led him back into town, where Roman and Bartholomew were waiting for him.

Roman groaned when he saw the dog. "Great. We get to travel with a mangy mutt. If he keeps me up by barking at shadows, I'll throw him to the Grimm."

Barty's eyes were alight. "Oh, what a smart-looking creature! Excellent choice, Qrow! Truly excellent!"

Zwei scratched behind his ear and rolled onto his back, wiggling his short legs in the air.

Qrow sighed. "He'll be a pain to travel with, but he'll definitely be good for Tai." He tugged on the leash to get the dog to stand up again. "Come on, dog. Let's go."

Zwei yipped, gladly trotting alongside his new master as they approached the path leading to the forest.

…..

It was mid-afternoon two days after Port's capture when Brawnz sought out Pyrrha. His left eye was twitching, and he had already hidden his weapons in order to prevent himself from doing something drastic. "Leader Pyrrha, a word?"

Pyrrha, who had been helping to carry the latest load of silver back into town, handed her share off to one of the miners before walking over. "Brawnz, are you okay? You look a bit stressed."

"Out of all the Huntsmen you could have captured," he growled through gritted teeth. "Why did you have to grab that one?!"

"Is he giving you trouble? Did he hurt anyone?!" Pyrrha asked, an edge of panic in her voice.

"No! That, I could handle," Brawnz groaned. "He. Just. Won't. Shut. Up!"

Pyrrha blinked, her shoulders relaxing. "You…look this stressed because he talks too much? That doesn't sound too bad."

"You haven't been guarding him," Brawnz insisted. "Seriously, could you maybe have some of your werewolves keep an eye on him. Maybe he won't want to talk with you around. Hell, use that freaky alpha stare if you have to. Just please keep him quiet! No one wants to guard him, and I can feel my sanity slipping!"

"Okay, calm down," Pyrrha soothed. Can one man talking really be that bad? She thought for a moment about which werewolves would be the most patient with Port. "I'll ask Scarlet and Sage to look after him."

"Thank you!" Brawnz breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Seriously, I appreciate this. Send them as soon as you can." He patted Pyrrha's arm and walked off.

Jaune approached, raising an eyebrow. "What was that about?"

Pyrrha shook her head. "Apparently, the hostage is so annoying, Brawnz wants me to appoint some werewolves to guard him."

"Huh." Jaune watched Brawnz's retreating form. "Maybe the stress of being in charge of Obsidian is finally getting to him."

"That could be it," Pyrrha allowed. "I should assign him an omega to help keep him calm." She looked toward the stock building, where Port was being held. "I think I'll go relieve whoever's in there now. Could you send Sage or Scarlet over when you see them?"

"Sure thing." Jaune pecked her cheek before walking off to check on the miners. I might have to check in on that storage room and hear this legendary talker, he mused. Could be a good ally if he can drive people crazy that easily.

Pyrrha entered the stock building, and could already hear the Huntsman's boisterous voice echoing off the walls. She started to wonder why Brawnz hadn't gagged him, but then remembered the muzzles and silently scolded herself.

"And then, I single-handedly beat those three Beowolves with the skull of the writhing Boarbatusk in my hands! Oh-ho, that was a glorious spat. Did I mention that I had gone for three days without food beforehand? It's a good thing I'm so used to such conditions. The food supplies here are abominably low!"

"Maybe because your friends have us blockaded!" the very annoyed voice of Dew grumbled back.

"Dew?" Pyrrha called as she approached the corner where Port was being kept, near the salted meat. "I'm here to take your place you for a little while."

"Oh, thank the Maidens!" Dew stood up and walked past Pyrrha as quickly as she could. "He's relieved himself within the hour, so don't let him trick you into untying him again. Good luck, Leader!" she called over her shoulder.

"Ah ha!" the Huntsman shouted, straining against the ropes binding his ankles and arms. "So, the devious she-wolf finally makes her appearance! Does the torture begin now? I will say nothing to betray my comrades, villain, so don't even try!"

"I'm not going to torture you," Pyrrha said as she sat down on a nearby crate.

"No, eh?" He squinted at her before suddenly turning his head away. "Hmph! Nice try, devil. I remember what you did when you first captured me. Your eyes and mine shall not meet!"

"I'm not going to use the alpha stare on you either."

"So, it has a name! I'm whittling you down already."

"It's not exactly a secret…"

Port huffed loudly. "What, then?" There was a pause. "Ah, I see. You are going to try using your beastly feminine wiles to attempt to seduce me into giving information. That will not work either, she-wolf! My mind is like steel! It never wavers. No matter how pretty the face, I can spot the demon behind the eyes."

"There's no demon behind my eyes, and you are honestly not my type," Pyrrha said dryly. "No offense."

"Well, devious seductresses generally don't care about that. They only have one goal in mind: The extraction of crucial information!" Port chuckled. "Don't think I'll let my guard down."

"You act as if you've actually been in that kind of situation," Pyrrha noted.

"Oh, I have! More than once, if you'd believe it. Why, there was this one time in my youth when I got kidnapped by the biggest collection of bandits and cutthroats you have ever seen! Their leader was a dark-haired beauty with red eyes that could pierce your very soul!"

As he rambled on, Pyrrha felt herself spacing out. So, he doesn't quiet down around werewolves, she thought. I hope I'm not asking too much of Sage and Scarlet…

…

"Honestly, I think the omegas could be considered the most important members of any pack," Scarlet was saying as he took a swig of watered-down wine. "I mean, we're the most numerous, and we're the ones who keep everyone from going crazy. Just today, Neptune got assigned to keeping Brawnz calm. Would a beta or alpha be able to do that? No!"

"Yeah, but who has been acting as the pack's lookouts since the beginning?" Flynt asked. "The betas! We were vital to most of the battle strategies, and we're the ones stationed on the wall right now."

"Let's not forget that alphas literally lead the pack," Weiss pointed out. "Also, the alpha stare has saved us on multiple occasions. It allows for disputes concerning leadership to be ended without bloodshed, and can avert entire hordes of Grimm!"

"Why are we even having this conversation?" Sage sighed. "The Moon gave werewolves three different roles, because each one is necessary for the pack as a whole. No one is more important than the other."

"We know that." Scarlet lightly elbowed his mate. "We're just debating. That's a human thing, right? Since we can't hunt, we gotta do something." He sipped the wine again.

"Go easy on that, okay?" Sage warned.

Jaune entered the tavern. "Hey, Scarlet. Hey, Sage. Pyrrha's got a job for you."

The two omegas stood up immediately. "What does she need us for?" Sage asked.

"So, apparently the Huntsman hostage is driving the others up the wall with his talking, so Pyrrha wants you guys to take shifts guarding him, in order to give Brawnz and the others a break."

Scarlet frowned. "Can talking really be that bad?"

"Apparently."

"We're on our way." Scarlet glanced over his shoulder. "Notice that the omegas are the ones being asked to do this. Another point for the little guys!"

Sage chuckled, kissing his mate's lips. "Why don't you go to bed? I'll take this shift, and you can handle the morning."

Scarlet snuggled against Sage's front. "Try to be back at some time tonight, okay?"

"I'll try." Sage pecked the top of Scarlet's head before following Jaune to the storehouse. As he entered, he could hear Port's loud voice, clearly in the midst of recounting some story.

Pyrrha, who had been sitting on a crate, staring into space with a blank expression, immediately stood up as Sage approached. "Thank you, Sage. When more food starts coming in, you and Scarlet will be getting extra portions," she promised.

Sage frowned. "I'm sure that isn't nece-"

"It is!" Pyrrha cut in. "It really is." She squeezed Sage's hand before following Jaune out. "Thank you again, Sage!"

Sage sat down, brows still furrowed in confusion, and turned to look at the Huntsman.

"Of course, after that, I had to pull the thorns out one by one, and that was quite the- Wait a minute! When did the guards switch?!"

"Um, just now," Sage replied.

"Oh." There was a pause. "Well, I suppose I should start over, then. You see, it started off as such an ordinary hunt in the plains near Roan Town…"

You didn't think I'd have Port and not have him tell long-winded stories that whittle away at his captors' sanity, did you? Honestly, I need to write about the teachers more often, because this is fun.

If you like what you see and want to show extra support in exchange for rewards, my P/atreon is Solora Goldsun.

Peace out!