A belated awoo to everybody. I'm so sorry about the lateness of this update. I'm still trying to get a working sleep schedule, and my backlog ran completely dry. Hopefully the length and quality of this chapter will make up for its lateness. I'm going to work on rebuilding my backlog this upcoming week, so this won't happen again. Thanks for sticking with me, everyone.

Enjoy!

Pyrrha and Brawnz watched from the other side of the warehouse as Ferron talked with Port, ready to intervene if the Faunus became agitated. He had been drinking a great deal of alcohol lately. Thankfully, he seemed mostly sober tonight.

"I honestly can't see why you'd want to go back to being one when the Maidens clearly saw fit to bless you with a rare cure," Port was saying, his brows furrowed with confusion.

"It's not a cure," Ferron said, his voice hollow. "It's a nightmare. Imagine losing something you've had for most of your life, something that's a part of you that you rely on as much as any other part. What if someone chopped off your right arm? Wouldn't you want it back?"

"But you were bitten. You were a regular Faunus once upon a time."

"That life's barely a memory," Ferron sighed. "How'd you know I was bitten? I never told you that."

"How else does one become a werewolf?"

Ferron blinked. "You… You know werewolves aren't infertile, right?"

Port sat bolt upright. "It's possible to be born as one?!"

"How can he not know that?" Pyrrha muttered. "Has he never seen a pup before?"

"I can hear you, she-wolf!" Port called over. "And no. I've only fought seven-foot tall beasts that were after my blood!"

Pyrrha felt herself bristling. "Well, many of them start as tiny pups who wouldn't hurt anyone, and who had no say in what species they were born as."

Port was shaking his head. "That… It can't be. The Maidens wouldn't… They couldn't…"

"Wouldn't what?" Ferron growled. "Make a species of damned-at-birth, sentient beings? I agree. They wouldn't."

"I…" Port started to say when the door suddenly slammed open.

Dew was panting, having run all the way from the entrance to the town. "Brawnz, it's the Huntsmen in the woods. They're being attacked by Grimm."

Brawnz's lip curled distastefully while Port immediately started thrashing back and forth, demanding to be released. "I guess we can't let them die," Brawnz muttered with a sigh. "Assemble Obsidian's Huntsmen."

Pyrrha nodded. "I'll guard our guest. Tell my pack to retreat further into the town."

Brawnz nodded. "Understood." The last thing anyone needed was for a werewolf to get shot while trying to assist their enemies.

Ferron stood up, a strange fire blazing in his eyes. "Sir, let me fight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I can wield a mace, and I haven't had anything to drink tonight."

"Okay, then. See you at the border." The two rushed out along with Dew, leaving the warehouse quiet except for Ports continuous, blustering shouts.

The Grimm horde was huge, consisting mostly of Beowolves and Ursai. The Huntsmen of both Obsidian and Vale hurried to gear up and rush into the woods. Some grumbled when Brawnz gave the order to attack, but were spurred into action with a reminder that the horde would likely attack Obsidian once they were done with the idiots in the woods.

Yang cracked her knuckles as she put on her gauntlets. "Maybe we can 'accidentally' hit a few of those morons while taking out the Grimm…"

Jaune raised an eyebrow at her. "I can't tell if you're kidding or not."

"I never kid when it comes to who I'll punch in the throat."

As soon as the Huntsmen were gathered, they rushed toward the woods, shouting battle cries to the one common enemy of all humanity. Brawnz was there first, easily dispatching a Beowolf with a single swing of his sword.

The other Huntsmen were putting up a decent fight, but there were just too many Grimm. It was as if half of the forest's population had suddenly come together.

Probably because of all the negative emotions of these self-righteous lunatics, Jaune thought with a grimace, blocking a swing from an Ursa and swinging his sword at its leg.

As the Obsidian Huntsmen fought their way to the others, one of the leaders of the blockade Huntsmen let out a shout of surprise. "Come to help us, huh? And why aren't your 'hero werewolves' helping?"

Velvet, who was closest, dispatched a Beowolf with a scowl. "You are honestly the biggest group of hypocrites I've ever seen!" she snapped.

Dew blocked a Creep from one of the Huntsmen, killing it quickly before looking toward the sky and cursing. "Brawnz, we got some Nevermore heading for the town."

"The pack can handle them," Brawnz shouted back. "Just focus on- FERRON, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

He had just caught sight of the blacksmith, who was rushing through the horde, a set expression on his face as he swung his mace wildly. He ran in deeper and deeper, and Brawnz saw what he was running toward: the Alpha Beowolf.

Brawnz knew that Ferron wasn't just trying to cause the Grimm to fall into disarray. He's hoping to get changed back.

…

"Let me out, she-devil! My comrades need me!" Port was shouting, straining against the ropes around his wrists and ankles.

"The people of Obsidian will keep them safe," Pyrrha said calmly. "They handled far worse when the vampires were here. You may or may not have heard of our defeat of the Nuckelavee."

"Impossible!" Port declared. "Your guards made the same claims, but I won't believe it. There hasn't been a Nuckelavee sighted in this area in decades."

"And there won't be a sighting for even longer, thanks to us," Pyrrha finished.

Before Port could reply, the door to the warehouse flew open. Ruby was panting, her eyes showing that she had already started transforming. "Leader! There are Nevermores attacking the town!"

While Port started struggling anew, Pyrrha quickly shed her clothes and began her own transformation. She would have to hope that Port's ties would remain secure. The werewolves were the only line of defense for the civilians at that time, and she would not risk their safety by making this battle one wolf short.

If only there was a human around to guard Port, she thought, casting a nervous look over her shoulder before following Ruby outside, making sure to kick the door firmly shut behind her. The last thing she wanted was for a Nevermore to get in and attack while Port was helpless.

As she bounded toward the rooftops, she felt her mindset returning to where it had been during the nightly Grimm raids only a few weeks prior. The Moon sang through her blood, urging her to kill, just as the first werewolf had done after rising from the blood of her parents, Beowolf bites turning to fire in her veins.

Her clawed hands gripped the side of one of the houses, hard wolf skin rejecting the splinters as she climbed. With a roar, she leaped onto the roof and slashed at a Nevermore that was trying to peck its way through. The creature screeched and turned to shadows immediately.

Ruby, meanwhile, was zipping through the streets, jumping at any low-swooping Grimm. She could see Blake and Sun finishing off another one while Weiss swiped angrily at one that flew just out of her reach on a roof. Ruby wasn't overly worried. This flock was nothing compared to what they had faced during the vampire raids.

We'll probably be able to keep any Grimm and bad werewolves from getting anywhere close to Vale once we get back, she thought. If we get back, anyway…

Scarlet was just chasing a Nevermore toward some of the betas when a loud crash caught his attention. He turned around just in time to see Port bursting out of the warehouse, rifle in hand. The Huntsman laughed boisterously, aiming and firing at one of the Grimm as it flew overhead, getting a clean headshot. He reloaded quickly, shooting at another Nevermore on the roof. Scarlet quickly howled a warning to the others.

Port turned sharply in Scarlet's direction. His eyes narrowed as he reloaded once again and took aim. The shiny metal barrel pointed like an arrow toward the small, red-furred omega. He didn't have any Dust, due to those rounds being confiscated, but a good shot to the head could kill anything, even with normal bullets! It was a good thing regular rounds had been among the various supplies in the warehouse. Did Brawnz really think that Port hadn't noticed?

Scarlet froze, his ears drooping and his dark eyes shining with fear. This was it. After everything, he was going to get killed by a bullet to the skull.

He blinked.

He wasn't dead.

The gun was…shaking.

Quickly, before Port could change his mind, Scarlet bolted behind a nearby building. The gun didn't follow him.

Port continued to shake for another minute, staring at Scarlet. Then, he gritted his teeth. "Dammit!" Shooting down another Nevermore, he hurried toward the woods. The flock was dwindling, but the horde was still strong. He needed to reach his fellow Huntsmen. As he ran, he tried to ignore the ugly, sickening feeling rising in his stomach.

I let it go, he thought. I let the beast go. I've been bewitched already.

As he drew closer to the battle, he pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the battle at hand. He could see the Alpha Beowolf rearing on its hind legs, letting out a mighty roar. Closing one eye, he pulled the trigger, sending a clean dose of lead into the beast's skull. Its howl was cut off as it vanished into the night.

A choked cry rang out, closely followed by a scream of agony.

Brawnz was fighting his way through the horde, trying to get to the fallen form of Ferron. He slashed a Boarbatusk while lifting the blacksmith onto one shoulder. Dew flanked him, keeping the Beowolves away. He hurried to the edge of the field, dropped Ferron to the ground, then ran back in.

Port shot an Ursa before kneeling next to Ferron, eying the wounds. There were several bite and claw marks. The man's eyes were open, but had a film over them.

"Did it…get me…?" Ferron groaned. "The Alpha…"

Port examined the bites before shaking his head. "No, my friend. Looks like it was an Ursa. The Alpha is dead. Never fear."

Ferron let out a choked sob. "No… So close…" His eyes shut and his breaths became ragged.

Port cursed quietly, fumbling with his healing satchel, which he had grabbed along with his rifle before rushing into battle. As he hurried to stop the bleeding, his hands shook. The fool wanted the Alpha to bite him. He was willing to risk his life to turn back into one of those beasts. How could someone be so deep under that spell? Then again, how deep am I? The thought sent a chill through him.

I need to get away from here, he realized. The spell of the beasts is too strong. It'll ensnare everyone. If we don't leave, we'll become like these fools. If we don't leave, I'll let another one live, and will be killed myself. Maybe…maybe we should just leave this poor town to its fate. It hurt to think this, and evoked the deepest sense of self-loathing. But still, maybe it was the only thing that could be done. Knowing when to retreat was a necessary, if not noble, skill to have.

After rubbing a salve over the worst of the wounds, Port quickly pasted down some bandages, wrapping a few around Ferron's arms. That'll have to do for now, you poor soul, he thought regretfully as he picked up his rifle.

He stopped short, however, realizing that the battle was over. The last few Grimm were being chased into the woods. People were starting to separate the dead from the wounded. As he drew closer, he noticed that none of the dead were from Obsidian. Did that say something about their skill overall? He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to leave.

A young upstart whose name Port couldn't remember, but who had declared himself the leader of the group, noticed Port's arrival immediately. "Peter!" he shouted. "You made it out! Thank the Maidens!" He clapped Port on the shoulder, then lifted his sword, glaring toward Brawnz. "Okay, people of Obsidian. We have our friend back. You would be wise to surrender the werewolves now. Do this, and we'll spare your town, in spite of all your sins."

No one could hold Yang back at this point. Eyes blazing red, she stomped across the field, clenching her fists, fearlessly walking up until the point of the man's sword was inches away from her chest. "In spite of our sins? In spite of…our sins?!" Spit flew from her mouth as she went into a rant that had been building up over the course of several weeks.

"Listen, you hypocritical, cowardly, idiotic sons of bitches! You kept us away from food and water, refused to listen to us when we tried to tell the truth about the werewolves, blockaded us from traders when we were trying to recover from being isolated by vampires, and repeatedly threatened everyone living here! You made it necessary to take a hostage, because there was literally no other way for the pack to get out of that situation without killing you, which they could have easily done, by the way! Might I remind you that you were on your way to poison our only clean water source at that time?" Yang only paused for a half-second to take a breath. "And now, when you get attacked by Grimm and we save you, against our better judgment, you accuse us of being the sinful ones?! You think leaving this town without killing us is a favor?! No. No, us letting you leave this town alive would be a fucking favor!"

Velvet cleared her throat. "I'd like to also point out that I heard some Huntsmen asking why the werewolves weren't helping to defend them."

"Oh!" Yang folded her arms, her eyes somehow burning even brighter. "Well, isn't that interesting? Isn't that just fucking hilarious?!"

Jaune walked over, putting a placating hand on his friend's arm. "Easy, Yang. You're starting to foam at the mouth."

Unconcerned, Yang wiped her mouth on her shoulder, keeping her gaze fixed on the outsider Huntsmen. "I'm sick of this shit," she growled. "I say we drive them out now. We have the numbers. They couldn't have defeated those Grimm without us, and they know it. Someone call the werewolves, and we'll run these bastards all the way to Umber!"

Jaune found himself agreeing wholeheartedly with Yang. He thought back to his conversation with Pyrrha about how tired she was getting of having to be kind all the time. Why should we keep lying down for them? he wondered. Some people just won't listen to reason. Why should we keep risking our lives and our friends' lives to placate people like this? It may hurt us a little overall, but there are sensible people out there. Qrow, Barty, and Roman are doing their best in Burgundy. Maybe word will get back here soon. In the meantime, Obsidian needs to get back to rebuilding without any distractions.

He looked at Brawnz, who was nodding his head, a resolute grimace coming to his face. Straightening up, the leader of Obsidian glared at the Huntsmen. "Collect your injured and your dead. If you need medical supplies, we'll bring some. But you are to be gone by sunrise. Any intruder still in these woods at that time will be killed."

The young leader of the outsiders sputtered with rage. "Blasphemers! Traitors! I'll kill every last one of-" He took a step forward, only to be stopped by a large hand on his shoulder.

"We lost, boy," Port muttered, shaking his head. "Trust me. We can't beat them. Let's leave them to the Maidens' judgment."

"Peter, what are you saying?! Have they bewitched you?!" He spat to the side, turning to his comrades. "Huntsmen, to me!"

But the other Huntsmen weren't moving. Those who weren't tending to their injured and dead were just looking numbly at the Obsidian Huntsmen, or further on toward the town, where they knew an entire pack of werewolves were waiting. They were decimated and exposed. The advantage they had possessed before was gone. If they didn't leave, there was no doubt that they would be killed. The steel in the eyes of the humans and Faunus facing them made that fact abundantly clear. They had lost.

In the end, Brawnz ordered most of the Huntsmen in the woods to oversee the healing and departure of the invading Huntsmen. Noticing the longing look Jaune was casting toward the town, Brawnz sent him to check on the werewolves and civilians. He chose to keep Yang nearby, as her presence seemed to be encouraging the Huntsmen to pack their supplies much quicker.

A division of the Obsidian Huntsmen saw to their own injured, carrying them back toward the town. Jaune helped carry the unconscious Ferron.

They were met by the werewolves, all of whom were unscathed except for a few minor scratches. Jaune handed Ferron off to Pyrrha. "He tried to get bitten by the Alpha," he muttered. He saw sadness and disappointment that mirrored his own as Pyrrha looked down at the poor Faunus. What would happen next? Would Ferron fall into despair again? Would he do something drastic now that his wild attempt to be turned back into a werewolf had failed? "Take him to the inn. Someone should keep an eye on him once he wakes up."

Pyrrha nodded, quickly touching the side of her muzzle to Jaune's cheek before carrying Ferron toward the inn. As she walked, she looked at his limp body. He was large for a Faunus, but still seemed so light and fragile in her arms. Was that how he felt all the time, now that he wasn't a werewolf? If so, could anyone really blame him for wanting to change back, even at the risk of his own life?

Would I take the same risk if this had happened to me? Pyrrha wondered. Almost immediately, she knew the answer. No. I'd keep living. She glanced over her shoulder at Jaune and the rest of the pack. Even if she had ended up as a human and Ruby had assumed leadership, they still would have been her pack. Everyone in Obsidian was her pack, werewolf, human, and Faunus.

If Ferron could realize that, maybe he'd be able to find something to live for outside of his former status as a werewolf. Pyrrha was determined to address this once he recovered. For now, she would leave him in the innkeeper's care, help with the other injured townsfolk, and await the coming dawn.

Hours later, when the sun rose and the werewolves changed back into their daytime forms, the Huntsmen of Obsidian returned, looking tired but happier than they had in weeks. "They're gone!" Brawnz declared, his entire face alight with relief. "The bastards are finally gone!"

A cheer erupted from everyone nearby, turning into a roar as it overtook the whole town. Plans were quickly made to form hunting and gathering parties, and collect as much water as possible from the forest streams to heat up. There were many humans and Faunus who were more than ready for a long-overdue bath. The werewolves were a little more reluctant.

"Ugh. Why would we mute our scents?" Sun asked, folding his arms stubbornly. "Can't we just wash in the stream like regular wolves?"

"If we were living in the woods, yes," Blake said. "Have you ever heard of the phrase 'my house, my rules'?"

"No."

"Well, it's an important phrase, and it definitely applies here."

Sun rolled his eyes before suddenly thinking of something. A slow smirk came to his face. "Maybe you could help-"

Blake put a hand over his mouth, blushing even as she gave him a dry glare. "I'm gonna stop you right there."

Sun shrugged. "Eh. It was worth a try."

Pyrrha hugged Jaune once her clothes were back on. "I'm so glad they're gone," she sighed. "Though, I wish we could have swayed Port."

Jaune shrugged. "Some people can't be convinced. Considering all we've done so far, I'd consider this a minor defeat."

"He didn't shoot me," Scarlet piped up.

The others turned to look at him. Sage's eyes widened. "Wait, he almost shot you? When?"

"When he escaped form the warehouse, I was right there. He had his gun pointed at me, but didn't shoot. I ran behind a building, and he left. I don't know if he would've changed his mind, but for a second…" Scarlet rubbed at the back of his neck. "It's something, anyway."

Sage pulled him close, kissing him softly. "You're alive. I'd call that something."

Neo, who was hugging Yang, cast a thoughtful glance toward the forest. "Looks like we sent Roman to Burgundy for nothing."

"Not for nothing," Pyrrha corrected. "If they can get the people of Burgundy on our side, it'll be a big help in convincing Vale. Besides, Qrow needed to get a message to Taiyang."

"And Winter," Weiss added, though her gaze was uncertain. "Well, perhaps…"

Ruby touched her arm, giving her an encouraging smile.

Even as preparations were made to continue rebuilding Obsidian, a new feeling of anticipation settled over the werewolves and Huntsmen of Vale. The blockade was gone. In a few weeks, or maybe less, Obsidian would be fully recovered, and Qrow, Roman, and Barty would likely be back.

After that, there was only one thing left: returning to Vale at long last.

Aaaaaand, that's the end of this arc. Part of the reason this chapter gave me so much trouble (besides the battle scene bits) was the fact that I realized that the Blockade Arc needed to end, but I didn't want to type a half-assed ending. I was originally going to have the Grimm attack, and then have the blockade continue, but then realized that enough was enough (hence the chapter title). Time for our heroes to stop being nice. Yang's blowup was fun to type. Next week will see us with Qrow in Vale. Stay tuned!

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

Peace out!