The ginger tabby yawned and stretched out her spine, the commotion below having rudely awakened her from her naps. She'd spent all night looking for a suitable place to rest, roaming from door to door in search of a gullible two-legger, as she called them, into their home. They seemed all too aware of her ploys, however, none letting up so much as a scrap of food. When her owner had died a year back, she'd never imagined living on her own would be so tough. She hadn't even the time to mourn before the landlords ran roughshod through the old Faunus's things, as well as her home, leaving her nothing but the gem-studded collar around her neck to remember her by.

Her first few weeks alone were awful. She'd been an indoor cat, so most of her glimpses of the outside world were either form behind a window or behind the bars of the carrier she was stuffed in to "protect" her during trips to the vet. She learned quickly to either keep to the alleys or to the rooftops, as two-leggers rarely ever notice when they trample over small things like her. Every time she got lost, which was almost every time she turned a corner, she tried to look to her kind for help. A grey haired cat also once lived with her and her keeper. He was like the father she'd never had. She'd hoped that others would be just like him.

She was saddened to learn just how naive she was. The first cat she met attacked her outright, ripping a chunk of her left ear off with angry teeth. The second did the same, but not before luring her in to be surrounded by a whole gang of cats. She was lucky enough to escape their claws, but the lesson they forced upon her stuck with her. She had only herself to rely on, and when she made her first kill they all backed off.

It only took a month for her to become known as the meanest cat in the district. She amassed a following of bloodthirsty strays, leading raids of food stores at night and delivering the same treatment she was given to other mewlings like she used to be. She grew cold and untrusting, except around the sacred few she could. She liked it, for a time, and even found herself in love. But when the fire engulfed the building she'd claimed and took the lives of every cat she knew, she was back to wandering the streets - a vagabond with no place to call home.

She stared lazily down at the two-leggers in the alley below from her perch on the fire escape, more annoyed than curious. There were several unfamiliar ones fighting a group of same-dressed ones. It had always struck her as amusing how their kind fought - they didn't ever seem to have claws to shred skin or teeth to tear throats with. She figured it must've been boring to fight as poorly equipped as they were. She knew they often used tools to stand in for such natural advantages, but there was no way the feeling was the same.

These ones, however, seemed different.

One of the unfamiliar ones with ears both on the sides of his head and atop it moved with heavy handed speed, his precise strikes audibly fracturing bone and disabling his opponents. Another, whose hair changed colors and had a tail similar to a dog's, appeared to control lightning like the grey clouds did, although no rainfall ever accompanied the tiny, red bolts when she sent her foes flying. The third fighter, a female like the second, was the patient kind, waiting for the same-dressers to go for her, rather than the opposite. She moved around them with circular grace, slamming the blunt end of her weapon into the blind spots of her enemies, countering their increasingly wild and inarticulate advances before eventually throwing them to the ground. The ginger tabby wanted to growl when she recognized the clothes of the same-dressers as the same kind that the two-leggers who started the fire wore, but the one in her stomach drowned it out.

There was a fourth unfamiliar two-legger standing off to the side who was more interesting that the rest combined. He was large, though not as tall as two of the others, and had only a small amount of hair on his head. Its color unsettled her, reminding her of the fire that took all that was good in her life as well. Yet he also reminded her of the old lady, reading a book in one palm, tuning out the world like she did. She'd often left large piles of them lying around, which the cat found to be comfortable sleeping spots when left in the sunlight. A nostalgic feeling tugged at her heart, one that she hadn't listened to in what felt like an eternity. This one was worth investigating, she decided. She trotted over to the half-lowered staircase and made her way down to him.

Nigel looked up from his book in time to see the ginger tabby leap to the floor and saunter towards him. It looked him over tentatively from a distance, advancing one leg after another. Curious, he shut his book around his thumb to save his place and kneeled down. It looked like it'd been without food for days, the wound on her ear marking her as feral. The collar around her neck told the story of the life she lived before and a limp in one of her hind legs marked her defiance of her age. This cat was well traveled, so what was it that made him interesting to her?

The tabby paused as the giant put his empty hand forward and touched the ground, creating a bridge she could traverse to reach his neck and tear it out. It was an unusual gesture of trust for a two-legger, one she'd almost forgotten she'd experienced before. What was his game, she wondered as she paced around him. It was hard to get a read on him - he neither smiled nor frowned. It looked more like he was hiding a great pain.

Satisfied that he wasn't leading her into a trap, she decided to continue her inspection up close.

Nigel didn't say a word when the cat climbed onto his back. He felt her long claws poke through his shirt and into his skin, but it didn't hurt. He waited as it prodded and kneaded at his spine, surprised to be touching metal. It scaled its way further up until it reached his shoulder, finding metal again. He stood up and looked at the tabby, whose eyes were wide with wonderment. He ran a single finger along her studded collar in search of a name. He found it scrawled in black near the back. He read it aloud softly, trying not to spook the cat. "Autumn." She seemed to tense, like she hadn't heard it in a while; like it brought back memories.

He shot a glance over to his teammates as he saw one of the grunts they were fighting break away and run toward him in an attempt to escape or gather reinforcements. He took two steps forward and turned to face him, taking up a majority of the alleyway. The grunt didn't halt his sprint - he either thought Nigel wasn't going to attack him because he'd been passive the whole encounter, or that he was small enough to slip by. In both cases he was wrong.

Nigel slid his book into one of his back pockets and extended his arm like a bridge again, this time over to a fuse box hanging off a wall. The ginger tabby bounded along it and hopped to safety, turning on a dime to witness the action. When the grunt crossed the imaginary line of skirmish marking the border of their allotted fight space he slid one foot forward, his arms hanging loose at his sides. Blue sparks licked the pavement underfoot, turning into small flames that trailed from his boot. The grunt smirked, taking him for an amateur who would be too slow to react to him diving by. But he could not count on what he could not see.

Nigel snapped his fingers and a brilliant blue flame combusted in the space between them, deafening the air with a crack that shook the ginger tabby to her bones. The grunt didn't feel his feet leave the ground, the explosive force knocking him out instantly and sending him sailing back down the alleyway. He crashed into the last grunt still standing, who teetered off balance and into Sapphire's forearm, which smashed down on her and cratered her into the floor.

Nigel sniffed once and looked down at his feet, which had coughed fire, and shook them out until not even a wisp of smoke remained. He reached for his book and scowled when he felt nothing there. He turned around and saw that it had been knocked out of his pocket and almost into the street. He hurried out to retrieve it before resuming his post, picking up where he left off like nothing had happened. He did do a double take when he realized he was reading it upside down a page turn later, however.

"Alright," Amber declared, seeing the fight was over, "let's get to unmasking these guys. See if you can find any scrolls too." She turned to her brother, who'd already found a wallet full of cash. "And leave their lien - we're here for their information, not to rob them."

Duster gave her a sarcastic whine before returning it. He unmasked his mark, a Faunus with a long, sharp tooth sticking out between his lips. Out of curiosity he pried open his jaw and saw that its twin ad been chipped off like he'd lost it in an earlier fight. Odd that he hadn't got it replaced with a fake, or hadn't had the other removed to keep his heritage hidden. Was he too proud or not proud enough? Either way, he didn't have a scroll so Duster moved on to the next unconscious grunt.

Sapphire picked over the girl she'd cratered with care, dragging her over to a wall to rest her against. With nothing in her pockets, her identity was all there was to discover. She slowly peeled off her full face mask, the sound of something sticky behind it sending shivers down her spine. "Gross," she whispered, disgusted as she unveiled a trio of claw marks on her left cheek that an Ursa had undoubtedly carved. One of the scars had reopened in their fight and bled into her mask, gluing it to her face. Her aura had stopped most of the bleeding, but Sapphire dabbed at it with a clean cloth anyways, putting enough pressure on it to clot the wound entirely.

Amber held her prosthetic hand over the face of the other female of the group, who didn't have any visible Faunus features as far as she could tell. A blue light shot out of her palm and a grid swept over the girl's face, a scanning program she'd written searching the list she'd stolen for any matches. Seconds later her arm beeped and a hologram of the girl's profile popped up. The first thing she looked for was a join date, which was too recent to have anything to do with the airship crash. Then she looked for a listing of her Faunus type. Under her name it said she was a deer Faunus, but Amber didn't see any antlers. Out of worry, she pulled down the girl's hood and found two shaven stumps of bone. She silently felt mortified - what person had forced her into a life of hiding who she was? A school yard bully whose friends held her down as he butchered her heritage with a knife? A prideful father whose born-in disdain for her kind that he'd learned from his war-participating parents led her to do the deed herself? She looked over to her brother, who'd put his hat and coat back on, hiding who he was, and touched her own tail. How many others of their kind couldn't bare the stigma of their birth?

"Everything okay?" Sapphire asked, walking up behind her. She released her tail and turned an eye her way, the worry gone from her face.

"Yeah," she lied. "Find anything?"

"Just some faces to look over. I guess they packed light." Sapphire shrugged like an old TV sitcom character. "Why is the White Fang such a problem anyways? So far we've been able to deal with them with ease, and we're not even huntresses."

"Despite this being the second time they've ambushed us since we met?" Amber scowled at her ignorance, causing Sapphire to shrink back a little. She patted down the deer Faunus as she spoke, searching for anything that would help. "These guys are strong in willpower and sheer mass. It's not so obvious during the day, when they're usually spending their time in hiding, but if you were to ever stumble upon one of their night rallies, well… they don't have the numbers to rival Atlas, but they're getting close."

"That they're makin' a daylight presence tells how bold they're gettin'," Duster pitched in. "Recruitment must be goin' up."

"I'm not surprised," Amber muttered. "They've always had charisma on their side, even before the change in leadership. Could be something big is coming up." She felt something solid inside the girl's vest. "Hello," she said to herself, pulling the vest apart to look for a hidden pocket. When she didn't find one, she cut a hole in it with a claw hidden in her prosthetic's fingers. She pulled a scroll out of the lining and began fiddling with it. Unfortunately it was password locked. She'd have to crack it back at her shop.

"Find something?" her brother asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Maybe," she said, pocketing the scroll. "I'll let you know later tonight." She stood up and looked over their unconscious foes. "Alright, while I keep checking off my list, you two remove their vests and give them to Nigel."

"What for?" Sapphire asked.

"To dispose of," Amber explained, scanning the scarred Faunus. Nothing relative came up. "We may be fighting the White Fang for revenge - killing even, but we don't hold anything against those who didn't have anything to do with the crash. They're only doing what they think is right."

"That sounds a little hypocritical," Sapphire pointed out, her lips pursed. "Aren't we all doing what we think is right?"

"Didn't say you had to agree with my logic," Amber said, walking over to a grunt her brother had just stripped.

"She's jus' bein' romantic about it," Duster said, stopping her from continuing any further. "It serves us no purpose t' kill anyone we don't have to. If we relieve them of their ties to th' gang, they might also have a chance t' find a better way t' live."

"So you're letting terrorists go on the off chance that they might share a few of your morals?"

"Some things in life jus' ain't as simple as you'd like, Saph." He kept the deer Faunus his sister had examined in his mind's eye. "Look, this conversation is gonna drag us place we don't want t' go. I don't mean t' tell you that y' shouldn't speak yer mind, but if we could do as my sister asked, we can get goin' t' where we do."

"I-" Sapphire huffed in defeat, convinced that she wasn't going to get anything out of continuing the conversation. "Fine," she said, striding over to one of the remaining grunts and relieving him of his uniform.

Duster turned to his sister, whose expression was naught but disappointment as yet another scan came back negative. "She asks a lot of questions," she commented, moving to the next grunt.

"She also has a point," he said, "even if I don't want t' admit it."

"Funny how that happens sometimes." She growled as her arm beeped again, informing her that yet another person wasn't on their list. "These guys must've joined this week, although I question why they'd send such fresh recruits to deal with us."

"T' keep us busy, perhaps?" Duster shrugged with uncertainty.

"Perhaps." She finished her last scan. A profile came up, but like the deer Faunus, his was too recent to have anything to do with their cause. "Hm," she frowned, rising to her feet. "I guess we'll just have to hope this scroll has something on it."

"Time we parted ways?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "I'll get to cracking back at my shop. Call me if anything comes up."

The sibling pair bid one another adieu and Duster headed over to join the others. He was mildly amused to see a ginger tabby springboard off Nigel's face, leaving several cuts behind. "What was that about," he asked, handing him the vests slung under his arm. Nigel shrugged, watching as the cat bounded around the corner. When he turned back to take the vests the cuts had already begun to sear shut and disappear. He tossed the clothes into a nearby trash can, snapping his fingers lightly and setting them ablaze. He looked back out the alley, catching a glimpse of the cat, which'd peeked around the corner to watch him before resuming its retreat.

"Thinking of goin' somewhere?" Duster asked as the cat's tail vanished from sight.

"Yeah," Nigel said. "Need to pick up a few things."

"Well, then we'll see y' later, then. Sis's headin' home t' work on th' scroll. Saph n' I will keep soldierin' on."

Nigel nodded and waved goodbye, reading his way to the long yellow road.

"So…" Sapphire began, standing beside Duster with a hand on the hilt of her sheathed blade. "Where are we going again?"

"I… don't remember," he admitted sheepishly.

"Great," she scowled, flustered that neither of them did.

"Got too caught up in that ambush, I think. Blasted sisterly steak lords," he added softly.

"Well, if it means we've got nowhere to go, can we head back to the docks and see if we can pick up my assassin's trail? We're not too far away, are we?"

"No," he said with some concern, "but it's been a week. I was already there once t' pick up yer scabbard and didn't find anythin' of hers then. Not a high chance of findin' somethin' now."

"Maybe, but it wouldn't hurt to retrace what happened, would it?"

"I suppose it wouldn't," he admitted. "Some of th' night workers might've saved some pieces fer us too, now that I think about it."

Duster stretched out his shoulders, cracking his bones and releasing tension. The sound freaked Sapphire out a little.

"Alright," he nodded, adjusting his hat. "On to th' docks we go."

Duster stood silently in the spot where he first met Sapphire, taking in the mid-afternoon air. Dock workers bustled about him, loading and unloading crates for delivery between the four kingdoms of Remnant. They paid him no mind, not they he would let him, his semblance deflecting any curious eyes. He kept his shut, listening intently to the footsteps around him and to the clanking of heavy machinery as Atlas mechs carried Schnee Dust Company-marked containers, which were no doubt full of dust, into storage. He filtered each noise out one by one, replacing each with the solitary wail of a guitar shredding out his favorite tune. He exhaled with satisfaction out his nose and smiled, his heart warm. The song was one he'd remember until he died. It was their song.

His eyes snapped open and he saw the whole world in black and white, with exception for the people living in it. They shone brilliantly, their extensive range of colors marking their souls for him to observe. Each was wholly unique and luminescent, no matter how minute the differences between them. Several of them had yellow auras, for instance, but they all had different shapes. One was particularly wavy, its owner clearly nervous about something in their life. No one on the dock came close to outshining Elaina, but she had an advantage in being a huntress.

He crouched down and touched the ground, searching for any trace of the killer. It was hard to get a read with so many footsteps having trampled the scene in the week since their encounter. If there was anything to find, however, it would be easy to spot. The icy-blackness of her aura was not something he'd forget. He could see and feel bits and pieces of it scattered about, each stiffening his arm hairs like static cling. She'd certainly left her mark on the city. But there was nothing solid enough left to get a lock on her trail. It was like he'd thought - too much time had passed. He supposed that was his fault, waiting for Sapphire to fully recover before starting up the hunt to keep her in the loop.

He shook his head and stood back up, dialing his semblance back slowly until it shut of entirely. He had to extend the brim of his hat with his hand as color returned to him, the sun a little too bright for his liking. He stepped out of the way of an oncoming mech and made his way to the boardwalk extending out to sea where Sapphire waited. He felt a few eyes follow him and saw a few faces double-take, believing him to have appeared from nowhere. He almost smirked, but he did not want to give them the impression they were wrong.

The water was particularly docile that afternoon, even in the wake of the ships coming in and out of the harbor. Not a single splash leapt high enough to lick at the feet of the people wandering the boardwalk. A couple fishermen cast their lines into the fringes under the guise of making a rare catch, but the ice coolers on either side of them gave way to their true intentions. Duster meandered around group after group, absorbing their conversations like the idle gossip he wasn't. Most were locals taking a break from busywork at the shore - he had to sidestep a couple kids as they barged by, a boy being chased by his sister and her plush Nevermore - but there were a few tourists among them from the inland kingdoms. They seemed amazed to see so much water border a city, rather than a desert or ice. It was good of them to step outside of their comfort zones for once in their meager lives. When he realized he'd said that aloud and turned a few miffed faces his way he flared up his semblance a little of embarrassment.

He found Sapphire lounging alone at the edge of the boardwalk. Her legs swung lazily back and forth as they dangled over the water. Were her feet bare she might've enticed a carnivorous fish or two to spring from the shallows to take a nibble, but they knew better than to feast on steel for a snack. Her head was in her hands, her elbows supported on her thighs, and she stared down at the sea. He couldn't see it, but a wrought figure stared back at her, chilling her to the core.

Duster tapped her shoulder and sat next to her, crossing his legs. She turned his way for only a second before huffing dejectedly and looking out to the horizon. "No luck either, eh?" he asked. She shook her head. "Ah, well." He pat her softly on the back. "We'll get her eventually."

"I didn't expect to find all the answers today," she scoffed, pulling in her legs and huddling around them. "Still would've been nice to find something."

"I don't mean t' sound like a broken record - does anyone make those anymore? - but I did say our chance of findin' anythin' was slim."

She grunted something unintelligible into her knees.

"Chasin' her fer this long hasn't been easy, has it?"

"No," she said, her voice muffled, "it hasn't."

Duster tapped his fingers together, silently watching the reflection of the sun distort on the coming waves. He found himself wanting to be distracted by the wailing guitar in his head. He almost wanted to go back and scour the docks again if it meant he could make Sapphire smile - to make her believe it wasn't a waste to come back. He should've started without her and picked up the trail so they'd have something to work with when she was ready. They'd just have to face the reality of their actions instead. He frowned. He'd never gotten along with reality all that well.

"Well-"

"Why are you helping me?" she interrupted, turning to him. "Really?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't, do you?"

"That's not a real answer," she accused.

"Seems real t' me." He pinched his arm for comedic effect. "Yeah, still real," he muttered under his breath.

"Surely you can come up with something better than that?"

He stared up at the sky for a moment as he thought, leaning back and on his palms. He racked his vocabulary for something extravagant to inspirationalize her with, but came up blank.

"Nope," he said with a shrug. "I got nothin'."

She shook her head with annoyance and gave up. "Were you about to say something?" she asked.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Comin' here wasn't a total loss. At least we confirmed that she hasn't been back here since last week."

"So she's not anywhere nearby?" She deduced.

"We probably won't have to check back here any time soon," he nodded.

"Well," she sighed, stretching out, "there's that, then."

She watched as Duster slung his legs over the edge and lay on his back, crushing his hat.

"What are you doing?" She asked, confused.

"Restin'," he said, picking his hat from under his head. He smacked it into shape with the back of his hand.

"Resting?" Was it really a good time for that?

"We may not have caught yer killer today, but we did sure kick a lot of tail." He frowned, catching the pun. "Remind me t' never say that one around Ra," he added.

"So, what," she said, folding her arms, "you're just going to fall asleep?"

"Naw," he said, his voice muffled as he covered his face with his hat. "But it was a good fight and we haven't exactly stopped the clock since then. I'd say we've earned a few minutes of baskin' in the sunlight."

"Aren't you warm enough?" She pointed out his coat and vest and everything else.

"Never you mind my decision making when it comes t' eloquent fashion choices."

"Fine," she chuckled. She was sure that he was grinning behind his hat.

Duster breathed in the sun and clasped his hands over his stomach. The silence was soothing, the crashing of wave replacing the buzz of the lampposts he usually heard at night; made it easier to keep his mind clear.

"Oh," he said, perking up for a moment, "by the way - how're yer stitches?"

"They should be ready to be out by the end of the week," Sapphire said.

"That fast?"

"My mother trained me in the proper use of my Aura," she smiled, liking the idea that she knew something he didn't. "She was a huntress, after all."

"Mm, right."

Sea birds cawed in the sky above, riding the air elegantly and effortlessly. Sometimes he wondered what life would be like if he was a bird Faunus rather than a wolf. Would he have had feathers, or wings? He might've liked that. He didn't like the idea of having a beak, though, if that was even possible. He'd never met a bird Faunus before. He wondered if they existed at all. He wondered what it would be like to be the first of their kind and decided it was not for him. He didn't like living as a Faunus to begin with. The idea of scientists wanting to dissect him for answers intrigued him less.

Duster felt the wake of an approaching ship roil against the boardwalk, its foghorn breaking the atmosphere blaringly. The wood beneath him creaked and shook, but never buckled, the craft of its six year-old pillars sturdy n even the worst of storms. He wondered if it could even survive the impact of an airship after it was replaced. He peeked out from under his hat at the buildings behind him. He missed the hill that used to stand there - he had fond memories of playing at the park atop it as a kid. He didn't blame the city, though. The resulting fire had rendered it barren. With the expanding population inside the walls they had to expand into nature's territory. He just wished the architecture was a little less boring.

A different rumble shook the boards behind him - they were of the rhythm of fast-paced footsteps. At first he paid them no mind, assuming them to be those kids trampling about nearby. But when he felt how heavy they were - how familiar they were - he changed his mind. Someone was coming their way.

"I knew that was you back there," a voice spoke. Duster sat up and shifted his hat back over his ears. He turned around and saw a grey haired man with yellow eyes, a whiskered moustache, and a fancy coat approach them. He was quite out of breath from dashing across the dock.

"Cor?" Duster said, surprised. Sapphire turned too, recognizing the name. He stood up to greet the man, hands on his hips. "Y' work here now?"

"Yeah," he panted, hunched over with his hands on his knees. "O-one of my many… odds n' ends jobs. Good lord, Cor; you're not that out of shape."

"Ah," Duster frowned sympathetically. "Rebecca?"

"Mm," Cor nodded.

"Well, Cor, this is Sapphire." He gestured to her and she stood up to shake his hand. "Saph, this is Cor, a friend of mine."

"A pleasure," Cor said, accepting her hand. "I believe Dar mentioned you a few days back."

"Right," Sapphire nodded. "You're his brother-in-law, correct? We met at Jade's last week." She quickly asked Duster in an aside why he'd shortened her name. He said it was faster.

"I am indeed." Didn't see it coming, but it was a pretty neat way to transcend our lifelong friendship." He looked into the distance, reminiscing the day Dar and his brother got married.

"Pardon me for saying this, but isn't that a rather fancy coat for a dock job?"

"I take offence to that," he snapped. "There is no situation in the world that does not call for a fancy coat!"

"I- what?" she stuttered, simultaneously embarrassed and confused.

"Don't worry about it," Duster cut in, waving his hand. "He's jus' messin' with ya." He put his hands into his coat pockets, turning his attention to his friend. "So, what's goin' on, Cor? Y' looked like y' were in a hurry."

"Mm, right - hang on." Cor took in a deep breath and centered his mind, setting aside his weariness from his short sprint. "I noticed you were standing by yourself over there by the warehouses. Thought it was strange to see you here with your semblance on. When you started looking about I realized that you were here for something important. I went through my head for anything out of the ordinary I might've seen and then I remembered something. Last week, I found this:"

He pulled out from one of his pockets a gas canister and showed it to them. Sapphire's heart skipped a beat the moment she saw it. That silver casing - that purple rim. There was no mistaking it. It belonged to her.

"Recognize it?" Cor asked.

"Saph?" Duster turned to her. "Y' look pale - and that's sayin' somethin'."

"Yeah," she confirmed. "It's hers."

"Hers?" Cor raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Can I see it?"

He handed it over and she began to inspect it. She paced away absentmindedly. The casing had ruptured, leaving a large hole in its side. It must have been over-pressurized. The gas inside should've sprayed out the top. She frowned. While she was excited to have finally found a possible lead, this was unusually sloppy of the killer. Duster was right. She hadn't returned to clean up after herself.

"What's going on?" Cor asked Duster as she looked the spent weapon over.

"We're lookin' fer a murderer," he summarized.

"Oh," his friend gulped. "The Fang?"

"No," he shook his head. "This is a professional we're dealin' with."

"How professional?" Cor hesitated to ask.

"Bodies for six years, with few leads in-between."

"That's bad. How long have you been looking?"

"I've been lookin' fer a week. She's been lookin' fer almost five years."

"Got it!" Sapphire exclaimed, returning to the pair. She showed them the bottom of the canister. There was an alpha-numeric code on the bottom printed in blue ink.

"A serial number?" Duster said, his brows arched high.

"Exactly." Her voice fluctuated, overcome with giddiness. "If we can track this to a manufacturer or find records of a sale, then maybe we can find out who she is!"

"Well, ain't that good news." He turned to Cor with a smile. "Nice work findin' that thing. Remind me t' take ye t' lunch sometime."

"Anytime," Cor bowed. "Glad I could help."

Suddenly a ringing noise came from Duster's pockets. He reached down and pulled out a scroll. He saw the picture of Amber's face, half of it with her hair calm and blonde, the other spiked and red. Her grin opened up to a devilish smile on the red side of her face, her goggles over her eyes. "Huh," he said, puffing out his lower lip. "Good timing."

"Who is it?" Sapphire asked.

"It's my sister," he said. "I wonder what's up."

He pressed the answer button on the scroll's interface and hit speaker, motioning for the others to huddle round. "Yo, sis," he said, more casual than cool.

Amber stared across the bay at the cliffs on the far side, leaning loftily over the guard rail that kept pedestrians from carelessly stumbling into the water, bouncing off the reef of rocks below as the fell. Sunlight gleamed off the streams of green and blue dust protruding from the earthen walls, their sheen dancing off the bay like the auroras in the north did in the sky. The only reason the Schnee Dust Company hadn't mined the veins of raw crystal out was because of the huntsman academy that stood on top, its headmaster watching proudly over his students from the clock tower among the clouds. It's said that the friendship between him and the General of Atlas has something to do with keeping them away, as every Faunus knows how little respect for history they have, but she couldn't say for sure. She'd been fortunate enough to not have had to work their quarries for meager pay during her time on the street, after all. She had vague memories of Beacon's headmaster, but rarely did she want to recall them. She gripped the rubber coating that shielded her prosthetic from the public eye. She'd gotten used to the pains that preceded and accompanied it years ago, but they persisted all the same.

The blonde wolf Faunus yawned and rested her chin on her knuckles, her tail waggling slowly back and forth like pendulum. She didn't mind waiting for her cracking program to break open the scroll she'd found when it meant she could do something else in the mean time, but with sapphire and Duster busy scouring the city, and Nigel doing whatever it was that he was doing, she didn't have many options before her. She could find a sheet of sturdy metal to surf on, but she just did that yesterday and didn't have any spent dust crystals on her. She could also search for a new place to pay homage to her steak lords at, but she wasn't hungry either. A smattering of water droplets splattered her face as a wave splashed against the rocks. She didn't feel motivated enough to wipe them away so she stayed still. She didn't feel like doing much at all, really. The sea was a calm enough place to be and since no one was bothering her she supposed she could be content with silent contemplation. Maybe she'd go home and take a nap until she was needed again.

Amber tensed as a handful of fingers cupped under the bottom of her tail and dragged along it, forcing it to involuntarily curve upwards and flatten its fur. She spun on her heel to see who'd touched her and saw a man with a cigarette between his lips walking with his friend, both of them grinning. "I told you it was real," he said, picking the cancer from his lips and breathing out smoke, "or do you want to touch for yourself?" The other laughed and shrugged, saying that he lied to make him touch it. She saw that his friend not only wore a gold chain around his neck but also had a watch on both of his wrists. She released her grip on the guard rail, which had crunched under the pressure, and snapped at them.

"Excuse me," she bristled, "but what do you think you're doing?"

The man who touched her tail turned to face her, a sleazy smile on his face. In his smoke-free hand he carried a paper bag full of groceries. She kept her legs wide and bent, slouching a little to appear shorter than she really was.

"Just showing my friend here how much of an idiot he is, sweetheart," he said through yellowed teeth. "Nothing to worry about."

"What did you just call me?" She asked, her fists clenched. She didn't care how angrily they shook at her sides.

"Hey, don't make such a fuss about it, sweetheart." He blew a puff of smoke in her face. "I'm just giving you a compliment."

"Say that again," She dared. "Say that one more time." A crowd formed around them as people slowed down to watch the spectacle about to unfold. She felt her hair begin to rise.

"Come on man," she heard his friend say. He tapped one of his watches. "We're gonna be late."

"No, no - hang on," he told him, tossing a short glance his way. He stepped closer to her, thinking he towered over her. He cocked a brow and placed his cigarette between his lips one last time. "What are you going to do if I do, eh, swe-"

Amber's left arm shot forward in an instant and she clamped her hand around his mouth. She smothered the cigarette into his cheek, burning his skin until smoke fumed between her fingers. He squirmed and screamed, dropping his groceries and flailing about as she straightened out to her full height, lifting him off the ground. He grasped for her arms, trying to push free, but failed to escape her prosthetic's vice grip.

"Hey!" His friend shouted, dashing at her to try and force him free. She flicked her wrist and sent him crashing into the guard rail, magnetizing one of his watches to it. He struggled to break free, trying to unlatch the watch but she stopped him by magnetizing the other as well.

As the smoker began to choke on the death in his lungs she lowered him to the ground. "Kneel," she seethed, forcing him to his knees. Their audience gasped as she kept pushing him down until his head was just above the cement, but they did not run. Sweat poured from his forehead, his eyes dilated and wavering wildly as he feared for his pathetic life. She watched as his grip around her arm loosened and eventually slipped away. He looked to the sky as the light in his eyes dimmed, no more half-breaths sneaking in through his nostrils. She sighed and released him from her grasp. He immediately began to cough and sputter, forcing smoke and mucus from his lungs.

Amber rose up and looked around to see the frightened faces of the people who'd stopped to watch. A few of them stared into their scrolls as they made sure they recorded the whole thing. One of them took pictures instead, gaping at her hair, which had spiked red. She snapped once, disassembling them to their surprise.

"You- you monster!" The friend yelled from his prison.

"Oh, like I haven't heard that one before," Amber scoffed. The crowd around them murmured in hushed tones, keeping their distance as she looked around. There were no Faunus around to stop her from furthering the hateful belief humans had about their kind, nor were there any humans who dared to try. She wondered how many of them agreed with the man. If her brother were there he could tell her if not with her ears then with the subtle shifts in their auras. Then again, he probably would've avoided the confrontation entirely, or just flashed a gun to scare them off, so like he'd have been much help.

"You bitch!" The friend frothed, rabidly struggling to break free. "I'll kill you for this!" After hearing that Duster would've helped without question.

"Please," she taunted, reaching for the paper bag, "you couldn't kill a bird if it crapped on your face and stayed to peck your eyes out." She poked a claw through her prosthetic's rubber coating and cut two holes in the bag.

"When I get you, I'll-"

"You'll pick up your friend, take him to a hospital, and then you'll get yourselves properly educated on the reason why you shouldn't sexually harass someone." She walked up to him and slipped the bag over his head. She bent down to his level and looked him in the eye through the holes she'd cut. "Because it makes you an asshole. We don't need any more of your kind in the world."

The man screamed as loud as he could, his spit drenching the bag. She contemplated shutting him up with a head butt, but decided to let him throw his tantrum. She got up and walked away, waving for the crowd to part in front of her. Someone would pick them up eventually.

When she made it home she closed the door behind her and slumped against it, out of breath. Her heart and head pounded agonizingly - she felt dizzy. She gripped her prosthetic shoulder and looked at her hand, bits of her metal fingers visible through the gash her claw made when it extended through her rubber coating. She felt afraid.

"How does Ra do that?" she asked herself, thinking of the command she gave the man in her grip. She only had one memory of the time she saw her godfather use his semblance. It too made her afraid.

She snapped too when she realized her computer was beeping, beckoning for her attention. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her cracking program had finished and had downloaded the contents of the scroll. She sat down at her desk and began to browse through them. She ignored the personal stuff - notes about the deer Faunus's day, pictures of friends and family - and focused on the info on the White Fang she could find.

There were numerous texts with seemingly random numbers from untraceable callers and a folder listed as operations. Inside that folder were several maps with routes and plans listed on them. Each map had a number in the upper left corner that corresponded to a text. She looked back over the texts to find the most recent ones received and then went back to the maps. None of them corresponded with an ambush, meaning their encounter with the group was by chance. However, she recognized map of the operation taking place in the last text she received.

Amber quickly pulled out her scroll and dialed her brother.

"Yo, sis," she heard him say with an aloof tone when he picked up, his voice distorted by the scroll. He sounded like he'd put her on speaker. She wondered if Sapphire was nearby.

"Duster, we've got a situation," she said, her brows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice suddenly serious. She stared at the stolen scroll and breathed deeply.

"It's the White Fang. They're planning on infiltrating a Faunus rights rally."

"Well that's not good," she heard Sapphire remark. Good, that meant she'd only have to make two more calls.

"It's fairly common of them these days," Duster told her. "Where's the rally being held?"

Amber paused, staring at the map. She breathed slow, trying to keep calm. She had to read over the location and date several times just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. How dare they attack on that day of all days.

"Amber," he repeated, "where is it?"

"Just outside of Jade's, Duster. They're going to torch the market."