Yang almost couldn't believe what her feet were telling her. After what seemed like an age of walking on shifting sands, her footing was stable once more. If not for the fact it would have fried her lips black, she would have kissed the stable plateau of rock forming the only road for hundreds of miles.

"It's not that much further," Yang spoke to the shadow behind her.

Blake could only find the energy to nod. A multiday trek through a scorching desert would have been hard enough for anyone, but Blake had it worse. The Falak's venom had taken its toll on her. Without the antidote it would have killed her; even when it was administered quickly, it sometimes wasn't enough. Her above average strength Aura, and the fact that she was young and healthy, had worked in her favour.

Blake had survived, but she hadn't come through unscathed. That much was clear to Yang. Blake had been delirious for much of the first night and the following days. It had been all Yang could do to get fluids down Blake's throat and attempt to control her temperature. Of course, the desert sun had made it that much harder.

In an ideal world, despite the harsh environment, it would have been preferable to keep Blake there until she recovered. But they didn't live in an ideal world. They'd brought enough supplies to last for a hunt, not for days of recovery. Unless they wanted to die of thirst, they had to try and get back.

Forcing Blake to rise and leave their shelter had not been pleasant. The first day they'd covered about a tenth of their usual distance. It had been clear that Blake's body wasn't up to the strain. It had only taken the slightest misstep to send her sprawling.

In that tent that night she'd cried, begging not to be dragged out into the desert again. It had torn Yang's heart apart, but the following morning she'd done exactly that. Only by keeping a hand on Blake had she been able to force her to take one step and then another. Those days had been painful, both physically and emotionally, but they'd made better pace.

Blake's recovery was slow, but at least it was a recovery. Blake would get the rest she deserved when they got back to a semblance of civilization. With the discovery of the road they had their first sign that her respite wasn't that far away.

"We should be there in a couple of hours," Yang cheerfully tried to raise Blake's understandably low spirits. Of course, she didn't say there was always a chance that civilization had moved on. That was the problem with nomadic settlements; they weren't always where you left them.

Yang paused for a moment. As she allowed Blake to catch her breath, she studied her friend. To say her appearance didn't look good was an understatement. Not only was she gasping down air, but her skin was grey and her expression strained. In the nights her boots had come away bloody, blisters caused by her unusual gait. She was suffering, and it was a situation entirely of her own making.

Maybe that wasn't fair, but Yang hadn't been able to help thinking it. What she'd told Blake was true. Over the past few years, out of the two of them, Blake always got hurt more. It wasn't just because of the relative strength of their Auras, Blake always seemed to find the way to paint a target on herself. It probably wasn't even deliberate; without even realising it, Blake was still trying to make up for all the crimes of her past. In her mind, atonement was entirely beyond her.

It wasn't right. In Vale Blake had closed that chapter of her life; the White Fang had been consigned to the pages of history as thoroughly as possible. Since then she'd become a much better person. She spent her days fighting monsters and protecting those who were unable to defend themselves. Her parents would have been proud of who Blake was. But for her, it just could never be enough.

Over the past two years Yang had tried to alter her way of thinking, tried to get her to stop blaming herself. It never worked. In the tent she'd wanted to try something different, something which didn't sit particularly well with her, but she was at her wit's end. In her opinion any sort of feelings for another should never be used for blackmail, but she was unable to deny the effectiveness when it had been the other way around. Once upon a time the promise of the future had given her strength in the present. She wished the same would be true for Blake, but she never remembered.

For now, she had to recover physically. "Do you want to stop for a while?"

Blake carried on resolutely down the road. "No. Just… keep going."

Yang fell in behind her. It was better this way. Despite carrying all of their supplies her pack was worryingly light. Blake's slow pace had forced them to linger in the desert much longer than they'd planned, and their provisions were running low.

The road wasn't much of one; it wasn't even manmade, but for Blake it was a godsend. The stable surface allowed her staggering gait a certain amount of rhythm. Yang stayed close behind her, not only keeping an eye on her but also their surroundings.

Thankfully they hadn't encountered any Grimm since the Falak, but, as life had invariably taught her, the one time she lowered her guard would be the time they appeared. The Grimm were the main reason those who chose to live outside of the major settlements remained semi-nomadic.

In this part of Vacuo, what the Grimm lacked in terms of numbers they more than made up for in size. The Deathstalkers that resided in the desert were at least half again as large as those from Vale; they perhaps weren't as aggressive as their Valesh cousins, but when roused to anger they were twice as deadly.

The Vacuan nomads had long since come to terms with that particular facet of their lives. To avoid the Grimm they stayed on the move ̶ ̶ out of their migratory patterns ̶ ̶ and as such only had to deal with the Grimm who went rogue. Grimm like the Falak the pair of them had been contracted to hunt down.

Yang could only pray that the herders they were heading towards hadn't decided to move on ahead of schedule. She didn't want to think of the consequences if they had. It would never have been her choice to be so deep into the desert, so far from any real civilization, but it was just the way life had played out.

Being a freelancing hunter was a lot more difficult than she'd ever thought it would have been. All the best and easiest assignments were given to those who were employed by companies; only the scraps were left for them. It had always been her dream to explore the world and she'd believed she'd be able to pay her way with a little work on the side. Now she knew reality. The never-ending desert was not the interesting experience she'd had in mind.

A bleat reached her ears. A bleat. Such a crisp pure sound; she'd almost forgotten what one sounded like. The unconscious tensions that she'd been carrying in her body for the past few days drained away. Where there were goats, there would be those who tended them.

It wasn't long before they saw one of the goatherds ensuring that none of his livestock wandered too far. He didn't raise an arm in greeting. By now it was what Yang expected. She'd always believed she had an easy-going attitude, that she could make friends with anyone, but she just hadn't been able to make any inroads with the natives who lived out here.

To them they were foreigners; strangers who were disrespectful of tradition. It didn't matter how much Yang tried. How warm her smile was. Most would barely speak a single word to her, let alone get drawn into a conversation. To be honest, she knew they would be glad to see the back of them. They may have been the hunters who protected them, but they weren't appreciated, merely tolerated.

It took another half an hour for them to begin to see tents. Here they were lucky. Though the people moved on with their livestock they did so in a predictable manner; some of the places they stopped had permanent buildings.

The one Yang led them to had been constructed from dried mud bricks; it wasn't exactly large, but it served as the settlement's inn. The owner nodded in their direction. He was one of the few who interacted with outsiders regularly; the small rooms at the back made up much of his custom.

"Hey Azrac is our room still free?" At this time of day the dingy building was empty of patrons.

"It is indeed al-aanisa." He gave a small bow. "I humbly awaited for your return."

It had taken Yang a while to be able to understand his thick accent or his overly polite phrases. He was no doubt pleased to see them, or more accurately the return of their coin. The rates he charged were close to extortionate, but unless they wanted to sleep in their travelling tent again they didn't have a lot of choice. At the moment Yang would have emptied her wallet for a proper bed.

He peered around Yang at Blake. "Is she… well? Shall I fetch the Charaka?"

"No," Yang said quickly. "She just needs some rest." Azrac had good intentions. Blake did need medical attention, but she didn't need to bled to restore the balance of her humours, or fed some disgusting sacred insects. It had always been her opinion that she was open minded, but how such backwards nonsense still thrived was entirely beyond her.

Waving to him, Yang guided Blake towards the back. The walls were thick and double layered, they kept the heat out in the day while maintaining the temperature at night. In the bowels of the building their room was blessedly cool.

Blake didn't need much encouragement to lie down; she fell face first onto the bed the moment she was able to.

"Talk to me." Yang crouched down next to her. Blake had barely said ten words the entire day. "How are you, really?"

The only response Yang got was a grunt, though to her ears it seemed like it came more from exhaustion than pain.

"I can't let you sleep just yet. I need to change your bandages." They both knew what that would entail and neither looked forward to it.

As Yang began to unlace Blake's boots she distantly became aware that Blake must reek. They both must. They hadn't been able to shower or bathe for weeks. Initially her own stench had nearly driven her insane, but as the days passed her awareness of it faded. The human body could get used to anything, even having an odour strong enough to fell a camel.

Blake's blisters had reopened. She hissed as her socks came away matted with blood. Her feet were a mess, so much so that Yang had no clue how she'd managed to walk on them. Sometimes Blake's tolerance for pain amazed her, but it upset her that she'd had the necessity to develop it.

Azrac wasn't exactly enthused by her request for a bowl of precious water, but Yang didn't leave him much of a choice. Blake had lost her battle with sleep by the time she returned and, as she had done so many times before, Yang tended the wounds of her best friend.

It was honestly exhausting. She hated every little quiver, every whimper, every time she had to hurt Blake to help her. Blake never seemed to think of this part when she threw herself in the way of danger. She might have saved those around her physical wounds, but often those were the quickest to heal. Blake would recover in a few days; Yang knew it would take her much longer.

By the time she'd finished darkness had fallen and Yang tucked Blake in before leaving the room. The moment she reappeared in the common area the hubbub of conversation died. After what she'd just suffered through, the cold stares were too much. She went straight to Azrac, got a drink, and walked out into the cool night.

She was met with equally intense attention outside. Even in the darkness, with her bronze skin and blonde hair, there was no chance of anyone mistaking her for a native. She left the tents behind and climbed a nearby hill. There wasn't much to see in terms of the landscape, just sand stretching off in one direction and arid dirt in another, but the sky more than made up for it. Without the lights of civilization, an innumerable canopy of stars stretched above.

Looking at them all, thinking about just how many planets were orbiting them all, made her feel ever so small. It wasn't a feeling she'd ever quite managed to lose since the White Fang attack on Vale. That was the first time she had to come to a realisation that, even with her skills as a huntress, some things were just so much larger than her.

She sipped her lyrrd. Made from fermented goat's milk the traditional drink was an acquired taste she hadn't quite managed to pick up. Still, it was certainly strong enough. Her head began to float away.

Settling down against a large rock still warm from the sun, she dragged her hand through the dust lying atop the baked soil. If asked three years ago where she saw herself now, she would not have said here. In the middle of a desert surrounded by hundreds of miles of nothing. In the midst of people who quite clearly resented her. Everything had gone wrong, but there was nothing she regretted more than losing her sister.

Ruby's absence had left a gaping hole in her heart. It was an expression that was overly used, but that was honestly what it felt like. Part of her was just missing, and it hurt. The only solace was that she was certain Ruby wasn't dead. If her sister died, Yang knew that no matter the distance between them she would just know; even the moon would have dimmed.

There were some days where she was millimetres from throwing caution to the wind, and plastering her name and location all over the internet in the hope that Ruby would see. But she couldn't. That would have meant losing Blake instead.

After the massacre in Vale, Yang had not re-joined the ranks of the victorious army or taken part in the celebrations. In Ozpin's twisted mind that made her a traitor. Even though she was wanted for desertion, so were others; Ozpin probably wouldn't have gone through the hassle of trying to extradite someone so insignificant.

Blake though, she was a different story. They didn't know if a prisoner had confessed in an attempt to save their life, or if Adam had left evidence behind, but the result was the same. Ozpin knew everything about Blake's past. Knew that he'd had a terrorist under his very nose and that a teenager had managed to fool him. Managed to fool someone who prided themselves on being one step ahead of everyone else.

Ozpin had pledged to wipe out the White Fang and only one member remained. Blake was wanted. In every country on the planet there were orders for her arrest. Neither of them failed to deduce what would happen she faced Ozpin's justice.

Atlas might have been safe, but then again it might not have been. The Ice Queen ruled it completely. The Ice Queen, not Weiss. In all honesty Yang wondered whether she had ever really known her at all; her actions rivalled Ozpin's for brutality.

They had been too much for Ruby. Yang didn't blame her sister at all for leaving. All her blame fell on Weiss… and herself. If she'd just seen the person Weiss really was sooner, she could have saved Ruby all of her undoubted heartache.

Aside from the televised broadcast of the end of the White Fang, it had taken Ozpin weeks to allow non-military traffic through the CCT. By that time it had been too late. Ruby was gone and Weiss hadn't known where she was either. In that phone call Yang had said some things that she didn't regret, but had undoubtedly burned any bridges she'd had with Weiss.

Without any sanctuary from Ozpin's reach, even for Ruby, she couldn't risk revealing herself online. She still tried of course, but the websites were obscure with references only Ruby would be able to understand. So far they lay unvisited. The only solace was that she knew Ruby wouldn't have wanted her to risk Blake's safety. Eventually they would find each other again.

Yang sat on the hilltop thinking until the cold managed to defeat her Semblance. Her feet were unsteady beneath her. Either this cask of lyrrd had been more potent than usual or she hadn't realised just how much her Aura had been depleted by the hunt. It took her much longer than it should have to stumble back to their room and burrow under the covers next to Blake. Yang wrapped an arm around her. Blake was warm and she was soft.


The first thing that Yang noticed on her return to consciousness was the invisible nail buried in her forehead. The second sensation that reached her was the smell of fried meat. She opened her eyes and found Blake setting down a tray on the table next to their bed.

"Oh sure, you wake up now. Not when I was cooking," Blake said, but with a grin. In the light filtering in through the slits in the wall she looked good, better than good, or at least better than she had been. There was colour in her cheeks again and her eyes had lost their pained edge; in fact they glittered.

Yang pushed herself up onto an arm, but Blake stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "No, stay there. I wanted to say thank you. So…" She gestured at the plates of food, "thank you. I know I probably wasn't all that easy to deal with."

"You were fine." Yang honestly felt touched, but she felt something else more, and the feeling was reinforced by her stomach rumbling.

With her hearing there was no way that Blake had missed it, her teeth showed. "Well I would argue about that, but I guess other things are more important. What do you want to start with? There's goat milk, goat cheese, goat sausages, goat chops." As Blake rattled off the list, each time emphasising 'goat' just a little more, Yang couldn't help but grin; Blake was in a playful mood. "I'm afraid I turned down the goat brain and eyes, but I did manage to find something that seems suspiciously like bacon. I'll give you a guess to which animal it's from."

"A pig?" Yang took the plate Blake handed her. The smell wafting from the thin strips of meat was what had roused her from her slumber. It almost smelt right; the scent was just slightly off.

"Surprisingly… no," Blake delivered in her deadpan tone. "I'm afraid that's from a goat as well. It still tastes good though."

Yang grunted through her mouthful; she hadn't been able to resist. It might not have been from a pig, but it still contained all of bacon's magical properties for dealing with a hangover. It was only after her third bite that she realised Blake hadn't joined her in eating.

This might have been Blake's way of saying thank you, but it didn't mean that Yang wanted to enjoy it alone. She shifted over and held up the blanket. "Get in and start eating." No matter how ravenous she might have been there was no way she could devour as much as Blake had cooked.

After a moment's hesitation Blake did as instructed. It was only what she deserved; Blake had really outdone herself. There might have been the equivalent of a half a goat or more, but the two of them proved more than a match for the near-feast. It wasn't often they got to spoil themselves, but after the hunt Blake had been right to make an exception.

By the time they were done Yang was sure her stomach was ready to burst at the seams. She massaged it gently as she burrowed deeper into the bed. If any day was appropriate to lie in, today was that day. She turned to face Blake on the pillow. They sometimes didn't share a bed, but she always preferred it when they did.

"Thank you. There's nothing better for a hangover than breakfast in bed."

"Yang it's four thirty." Blake lay down to look at her. "In the afternoon," she added at Yang's widening eyes.

"What?"

"Yep. I could have fired Gambol Shroud next to your ear and it wouldn't have made a difference. You must have been exhausted. So I thought I'd try a different approach. It seemed to work."

It had. Despite her surprise at learning she'd slept through much of the day, her body must have really needed it. Between having to care for Blake and carrying all their supplies she'd really pushed herself over her limits the last few days without even realising it.

"But like I said, it was my way of saying thank you."

"You don't need to mention it. It's what friends do for each other."

Blake took several long seconds before she spoke again. "Just friends? I… I remember what you said."

Yang couldn't help her jaw dropping open in surprise. In that moment, in that admission, Blake was vulnerable. Yang saw it in her eyes, even as Blake tried to look anywhere but at her. After everything that had happened to her, Blake had trouble opening up, baring the core of herself. When she did she expected only pain. Yang couldn't promise that there wouldn't be, no one could promise that, but she could promise that any pain would not be caused deliberately.

"Look, between us it's always been..." Blake searched around for the right word, "complicated. There are about a million reasons why we shouldn't be here now, why we should never have worked out, but we are here." She forced herself to look back at Yang. "With the amount of time we spend together we should drive each other mad, but somehow we don't.

"We've been together in every way that matters. We've shared our thoughts and our food. We've bound one another's wounds, mine more than yours admittedly… We've slept close to share our warmth when it was all that we had left to share. I've cried on your shoulder and you've cried on mine. You've carried me when I was almost dead. We've shared our lives for so long and I wouldn't have wanted anything else."

Yang's throat caught as Blake spoke. The words were romantic, so full of feeling. If she'd ever doubted just how Blake actually felt towards her, those doubts were disabused. But at the same time the words tugged faintly at her memory. They were a little too flowing, too poetic, as if they were rehearsed, or…

"Are you quoting a book?" Yang asked with a grin. The rouge that blossomed in Blake's cheeks told her that her intuition was right.

"That's not the point. And it doesn't make it any less true. We have done all that."

"I know, I know. I was just messing with you. Go on."

"You've ruined it now," Blake sulked.

"Sorry."

"You should be, but I want to say this." Blake sat up, taking a moment to regather her thoughts. "When I'm with you I just feel like I can be myself. Me. Not the façade I have to present to the world. I've dragged you into things that anyone else would have walked away from without a backwards glance, but you're still here. You're pretty much the only person that I have left. I know for certain that if not for you I would be dead."

Yang rose sharply. "Don't say that." The last thing she wanted brought to her mind was the image of Blake's corpse.

"You know it's true. I owe you everything. And I will do my best to repay you in any way I can. I swear it."

This had suddenly gotten a lot more serious than pillow talk. "You don't need to. You already have. This hasn't been just you taking. You've already returned everything I've given you and more." Yang hesitated. "If you were lucid then you must remember what else I said.

"I am not going to get into a one-sided relationship with you. Full stop. It's not what I want and not what I'm prepared to do in any way, shape, or form. I said before that we will be equals. In everything. You'll stop putting yourself in danger and you'll also stop thinking that you owe me. I'm not going to have it any other way."

In that Yang was adamant. Moving their relationship past its current comfortable point was a risk. It might cause everything to break down, it might even mean they were unable to look at the each other without feeling sick ̶ ̶ Blake was already struggling to look at her ̶ ̶ but the one thing she was certain of was that any relationship that wasn't equal was doomed to fail from the very start. She'd been in her fair share of them.

"So this is where you decide if you are going to start trusting me. Completely. That we'll be equals."

"Of course I trust you." Blake finally met her eyes.

"Then you're going to have to prove it. But for now, breakfast, or dinner I suppose, in bed is a pretty effective way to get on my good side."

Yang leant into Blake. She didn't have to move far; they'd held their entire conversation with only the scant separation of a few inches. Knowing what was coming, Blake's eyelids fluttered shut. Despite being bereft of makeup Blake was still beautiful, but it wasn't purely a superficial beauty. Unlike so many people she'd known, Blake was a good person, no matter what she thought.

The kiss wasn't deep or long. Yang didn't want to rush things; they'd done that already. Instead their lips barely brushed one another's. The arid air of the desert had taken its toll on both of them. Yang knew that her lips were chafed and hard and Blake's weren't much better. Still, the gentle touch might not have been soft, but Yang savoured the aftertaste of the meal on Blake's flesh.

Breaking apart, Yang could feel her pulse racing. It might have been a simple kiss, but it was one that she had fantasised on and off about for years. No matter what else happened, today was destined to be a good day.

The effect of the kiss on Blake was equally apparent. She attempted to continue it only for Yang to stop her. As much as her surging hormones were trying to persuade her of the foolishness of her intention to take things slow, she was determined to abide by it.

"That's all you get for now. I want to do this right, but don't worry, there will be plenty more in the future." Yang didn't add that it would only be the case if Blake kept her side of the bargain.

"Not fair." Blake leant back against the wall sulking, but there was a hint of playfulness beneath it.

"Nope, it isn't." They remained in comfortable silence for a few minutes. That was one of the best things about spending time with Blake. There was no need for either of them to fill the air with meaningless words.

Yang yawned; despite having slept for over twelve hours straight she was still exhausted. "I suppose we can't spend all day in bed."

Blake laughed. "I know we're meant to be equal in everything, but I don't think the 'we' quite applies here. I was up at dawn. I've actually done something productive with my day. Your clothes are on the table."

They were folded in neat piles, everything she'd worn over the hunt. Water couldn't be wasted on laundry and as such Blake had probably used the method the natives used; shaking them in a bag filled with fine sand and sweet-smelling herbs.

"I also cleaned Ember Celica, sealed the bottles of venom properly, and restocked what supplies I could."

As much as Yang would have liked to say Blake didn't need to do all that, especially when she was recovering from injury, Blake had done it because she wanted to. In such a situation there was really only one thing to say.

"Thank you."

Blake beamed in response. "You're welcome. I didn't turn in the contract though. We should both be there for that."

Certainly if there was anything that made up for the pain and suffering of a hunt, getting paid was it. There was nothing quite like the clink of hard-earned coins.

As much as her body protested she swung her legs from the warm bed. "Let's go and get paid."


The cooling early evening hours were the perfect time for work and as such they only saw the womenfolk and young children of the settlement. When the pair of them came into view the women stopped preparing the evening meal and just stared.

Yang could sort of understand the men's dislike of them. They were two females who didn't conform to their patriarchal cultural expectations. Rather than raising a family ̶ ̶ as they should have been doing according to one drunk the first night ̶ ̶ they were hunters. It no doubt shamed all of the strong men that their call for help had been answered by two females only just into their twenties.

It was her hope that the reason the women stopped talking in their presence was because they saw something they'd no doubt been led to believe was impossible. Women who made their own decisions, who had chosen their own path in life, without a brother or father telling them what to do. The very concept likely shocked them, and maybe inspired them.

Yang knocked on the door of the Mukhtar's hut. The tribe's headman hadn't been overly enthused to see who had answered his contract either. The grey in his long beard showed just how resistant he was to change, but at least he had put the well-being of his people before his pride.

With his answer they pushed their way inside. The hut wasn't big, it consisted of just two rooms, but it was used more for practicality's sake. The Mukhtar was bent over a small desk pushed into a corner, wireframe glasses on his nose, filling in forms.

Even for a nomadic tribe, paperwork wasn't an unknown entity. The only way they could exist was by selling the produce of their herds to traders, and that meant keeping track of every transaction and complying with all of Vacuo's legislation.

He didn't look up from his work. He no doubt knew who had come to see him, but in his opinion it was their place to wait on his whims. Yang swallowed what she'd been about to say. Like it or not, he was technically their boss at the moment.

The pair of them had to stand there for five minutes before he set down his pen and glasses and turned around. "You're late."

It wasn't the greeting that Yang had been expecting. "Excuse me?"

"I said you're late. You told me five days. Today is the tenth since you departed."

"So? It took longer than expected. It's not exactly a walk in the park out there."

The Mukhtar clearly wasn't used to being spoken to in that way by someone like her. "You're not getting extra pay just because you were late. You get five days."

"No we get ten. Just like you agreed in the contract." Some of the Mukhtars that they'd had to deal with had treated them fairly, but some tried to weasel their way out of the deal.

It was a behaviour that was unfortunately common. When the Grimm were spotted, no one wasted time calling for a hunter to protect them, but when the hunter was successful and it was time to pay up most attempted to renegotiate. It was the sad truth that if the hunter did their job there wasn't much of an incentive for their employer to pay them; the danger was gone. The contracts were meant to prevent that, but, as she and Blake had so often found, they were less than ironclad. In reality, all the way out here, they had no way of enforcing it; they couldn't bring the Falak back to life if he refused to pay.

"No. You said five. You'll get five. It's not my fault it took you so long. Did you actually kill it? Judging by her it appears that you came off worse." He nodded towards Blake; though she appeared much healthier than yesterday it was still clear she was carrying injuries.

"We get paid for ten," Yang reiterated in a hard voice. "And as for your Falak we get extra. It was closer to eight feet than five."

That was another tactic that was depressingly common. Misrepresent the scale of the hunt. If someone sent them after a pair of Deathstalkers and the directions just happened to lead them to a nest they had very little choice but to take them all out. When they were done they'd be very unlikely to get paid for more than two. Many thought they should have done it for free anyway. They didn't seem to be able to comprehend that it was their job, and without getting paid they wouldn't be able to eat.

After the first few times they'd learnt to take that into account when deciding what contract to take, but it was just another reason why so many hunters took commercial contracts. As a freelancer she had very little weight; there was always another willing to step into her shoes. With a company behind them they would get paid fairly and well, but it was just too risky to put themselves in the public eye.

"The one we saw was five. That's what you agreed to."

Yang sighed; she knew she wasn't going to win this battle. It just made her tired. She and Blake had literally bled to defend these people and in return they got ripped off. They didn't even get any thanks. Though many of their hunts ended satisfactorily, ones like this made her rethink her career choice.

"We get ten days and the pay for the Falak." Sensing her mood Blake took over the negotiating.

"Eight days and the agreed fee."

"Ten. Don't make us report you." Blake's threat was largely an empty one. There was no way that any official from Airtafae was going to follow it up when they'd have had to come out to the middle of the desert. The only facet that caused the Mukhtar to purse his lips was the possibility that he'd become known as a cheat and find his future calls for help unanswered.

"Ten and the fee." He held out his hand and Blake took it. They'd been short-changed by a long way. Even by getting ten days instead of five it didn't make up for how much they should have been paid for taking down a Falak of that size.

Yang let Blake handle the rest of the transaction. She showed the Mukhtar the photos of the corpse before he opened his strongbox and counted out a stack of lien. Yang wasn't that interested. On their first true payday she'd been brimming with enthusiasm and pride, but now it hardly seemed worth it.

Yang wasn't sorry when she left the hut without saying goodbye; the Mukhtar had earned it. Blake caught up with her a few seconds later, she at least had tried to maintain a working relationship.

"So what do you want to do?"

"To be honest, sleep." Despite how she'd practically just woken up, the encounter with the Mukhtar had drained most of her energy.

Blake grasped her shoulder and pulled her to a stop. "What is it?"

"I'm just tired. We've spent two months out here and what have got to show for it? A few thousand lien, a few new scars. It isn't worth it."

"Sure, he ripped us off back there, but we still have the venom. That should more than make up for it." After treating Blake's injuries and ensuring she was sleeping peacefully, Yang had filled up all the bottles in her pack. The venom of a Falak was essential for the anti-venom and it fetched a pretty price.

"I don't care about the money. It doesn't help me find Ruby!" Yang half-shouted at Blake who recoiled. It took her a moment to realise what she'd done. "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

Blake looked deep into her eyes and reached forward to clasp her hands. "I understand. I miss her too. But we're doing everything we can. You never know, when we get back to Airtafae she might have gotten in contact. I take it that's what you want to do?"

Yang nodded. As far as she was concerned they weren't doing enough. A few cryptic clues on the web. How was Ruby meant to find them? They should have done more, but just like joining a company it was too dangerous. Ozpin was still searching for them, for Blake. They both had warrants out for their arrest. If they revealed themselves even Vacuan sovereignty wouldn't save them from his wrath.

The same could be said of Ruby. They'd all seen the Atlesian arrest warrant for her, and only one person could have set it. A person that Yang simply didn't want to know anymore. Even if she hadn't driven Ruby away from safety ̶ ̶ and no doubt broken her heart in the process ̶ ̶ what Weiss had done was completely unforgivable. Yang would never have thought that her cute nickname for Weiss would have become so apt or widespread.

"Ok. To be honest I've been thinking about it for a while as well." Blake smiled and rubbed her back as she got them moving again. "So how about we stay for tonight, finish getting supplies tomorrow, and head out the day after? It won't be long before we're within range of the CCT again."

"Yeah." Yang's attempt to perk herself up was only half-successful. "That sounds good."

It did. She'd keep her fingers crossed for news of Ruby, but she'd been disappointed too many times for that hope to be more than fleeting. Even so, back in Airtafae she'd be able to see her dad and Qrow. And she never knew, but maybe they'd run into Raven at the same time.

A/N: Has the SS Bumbleby surfaced after almost 600k words? Let's all wish it a safe and untroubled voyage. Because we know that's going to happen. This might well have been the slowest burn relationship for the show on this site, I'm not sure.

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and if you haven't follow/favourite the story. It helps me out a lot.