Here's the next chapter of Hos. Hope you enjoy.
Director: College Fool
Writer: Coeur al'Aran
Chapter 3
Much to Jaune's surprise, his meeting with Team Cardinal was quickest, and yet politest, downward spiral with a group of Huntsmen he'd ever had. It happened in all of the space of walking up to them and offering an admittedly curt nod and extended hand.
"Hello, I'll be your guide. The name's Jaune Arc," he greeted, at least trying to be cordial. More than he had with the others, at least.
Their leader, Cardin Winchester, left him hanging. "Jaune Arc? Is this your sister's idea of a joke?"
If it was, Jaune didn't see the punchline. "…maybe? Are you friends with my sister?" he hazarded a guess.
The much larger man-boy glowered.
"No."
And that was that. No handshake, no false niceties of hoping they could be friends, no easy chatter or questions about his qualifications. From strangers to simmering animosity in under a minute. That had to be a new record… and yet somehow still his best meeting with Huntsmen today.
Cardin had stayed quiet except to occasionally shoot him glares, the other members of CRDL had awkwardly shuffled but not broken the silence, and Jaune had shrugged and leaned against the Bullhead and closed his eyes, wondering what his other half had done this time. Even the brief interruption as a runner from SDC approached, handing him a bag, hadn't broken the tension.
Still, their open dislike of him was almost charming in its honesty.
The charm wore off soon enough, though, as the plane took off and the motion sickness set in. Even if he'd passed on breakfast and lunch in preparation- even if he had no cookies to toss- it didn't take long for the green to settle in. He remembered what his uncle taught him- took out some smoked deer jerky to chew on- but it only helped so much.
He knew the Huntsmen would notice. Knew that their kind smelled weakness like Grimm did fear. He'd barely grabbed a piece to chew on than his little package was liberated by… Lark was it?
"That looks good. Gimme some," the boy demanded, even as he was already taking a piece. Despite his uneasy appearance, Jaune made a grab to retrieve it- but the Huntsman-in-training jerked the jerky out of reach, even as he helped himself to more.
"Hey dude, share it," the mohawk kid urged. Not to Jaune, obviously, but soon that was how Jaune's snack became everyone else's.
"This is good," Russel commended, even as he had a piece half in his mouth. Sucking on it like a piece of straw, he enjoyed Jaune's pillaged snack. "What kind of jerky is this?" he wanted to know.
Jaune looked at him, held it for just a moment, waited for the boy to give it a nice long suck- before answering.
"Deer Dong Jerky," Jaune answered weakly, fighting through his nausea to be heard clearly.
Russel's eyes went wide, his face turning as green as Jaune's, and he gave an involuntary suck and gag. It was well timed- and the pack turned on itself in favour of the fresher, bloodier meat.
"Dude, you're sucking deer dick?" his friends laughed. "Is there something you want to tell us?
"I thought you were civilized, dude," the other needled. "Next you'll be telling me you're into faunus."
"It's- it's not my fault! He's the one who had it!" Russel defended, pointing an accusing finger at Jaune. "What kind of-"
"Knock it off," Cardin interrupted, voice overruling the team. "If you weren't prepared to eat it, you shouldn't have taken it."
Jaune shot a look at Cardin. The other boy had been quiet most of the trip so far - except for the occasional glare shot in Jaune's direction - but…
"That's good advice," Jaune conceded, his respect for the Huntsman going up marginally. They shouldn't have taken it at all, obviously, but it was still good advice. Want not, waste not. Food would be hard to come by in the Wildlands.
Cardin snorted. "Whatever," he said, and went back to ignoring Jaune. His team seemed to follow his lead, leaving Jaune to suck on his not-actually-deer-dong deer jerky. Deciding he might as well to pass the time, Jaune took out the wrapped package he'd gotten from the SDC runner earlier. Despite their pretence, Team Cardinal watched as he opened the mystery gift.
"That a new scroll?" Dove asked, forgetting that he was supposed to be ignoring Jaune.
"Apparently," Jaune said. "Never seen one like this before." It looked like one, sure…
A note fell to the floor, and Lark picked it up.
"What's it say?" Jaune asked. Lark made to hand it over, but Jaune busied himself fiddling with the scroll, so Lark was left to read it.
"It says… something-something legalese… this it? It's a Schnee Dust Corporation proprietary scroll something-something more legalese… here it is. It's a Search and Rescue scroll for our buddy here," he said, with a certain false nicety on the word 'buddy.' "Weiss is saying it has all the maps loaded and frequencies to search for locked in, and… whoa, really?"
"What did she say?" Russel wanted to know. Jaune didn't care, trying to figure out how to make the damn thing work.
If he'd been looking up- hadn't been trying to focus so much on the scroll to keep his mind off his stomach- he'd have noticed the sneer coming across the boy's face.
Lark reached over, mocking smile apparent, and casually did what Jaune couldn't and turned the scroll on. "It'd help you hit the power button… no-scroll," he suggested, before turning towards his friends. "Our buddy here," he began, and the tone of his voice said the moniker was politeness only, "is so far in the pre-dust age that our dear Heiress had pity and gave him a scroll for the expedition."
"Whoa, really?" Dove asked. "No scroll? How do you live like that?"
Jaune opened his mouth to say 'by hunting', but a wave of nausea took him and he swallowed air instead.
"That's, like, primitive!" Dove continued, as if he'd heard it.
"What a backwoods rube," Russel laughed. "Have you even had a scroll before?"
Jaune said nothing, glared at the floor as he tried to master his stomach, but the fact that red was replacing green on his face gave his answer. Three boys laughed. One didn't.
"Do you know how to use a scroll?" Cardin demanded. And it was a demand- there was steel and strength in the words, and the three other members of CRDL fell silent as he waited for Jaune's response.
"Never needed to," Jaune admitted. It wasn't like there was much reception out on the frontier, or anywhere in the Grimm Lands.
"Great, another incompetent Arc," Cardin muttered, and whatever charm or marginal respect Jaune had left was buried under the flash of resentment.
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
"Dove, teach him," Cardin ordered.
"What? Why me?" Dove ordered.
"Because Jauney Boy here doesn't know and he needs to," Cardin said, direct and to the point. "The last thing we need is for him to fall behind or get lost without a clue of how to set a distress beacon."
"I'm your guide. I have flares," Jaune pointed out.
"I don't care," Cardin bluntly said. "If you can't even operate a scroll, you're a liability. I owe your sister enough to keep you alive, and that's what I'll do. Dove, teach him the basics: he doesn't need to make a call or anything, just how to set or detect a beacon."
"And the maps," Jaune said. He wondered if they'd make him beg, but ultimately settled for asking nicely. "Please."
"Fine," Dove assented. "You should totally give me some of your food for teaching you," he muttered as he slid over.
Jaune pulled out a bag with one special finger.
"Eat deer dick."
For some strange reason, Dove didn't take Jaune up on his most generous offer. Instead the he worked on the scroll, grumbling all the while as he worked the various buttons. Despite the bad taste in his mouth, Dove did do as he was told, and Jaune quickly memorized the button presses to get him what he needed, and some of what he didn't.
"-and this takes you back to the main menu, where you can go back to the emergency beacon like I showed, or to the download library. Looks like that's where Miss Special Snowflake downloaded the maps, and... stories? Wha?" Dove remarked, exaggerating his disbelief. "Why'd she bother wasting space with that?"
"Might come standard with the scrolls," Lark remarked from the side. "I think mine had something like that when I got it."
"Totally useless," Dove opined, before looking at Jaune. "Want me to delete it for you?"
"I don't care. They're useless to me," Jaune said, already dismissing them from his mine even as an uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his gut. "Show me the maps."
Dove left the... folder?... alone, apparently letting laziness decide for him. Instead Jaune watched like a hawk as Dove pushed the buttons to select the right option. Instead of a screen filled with useless letters, there were rows of row of just a few letters and seemingly random numbers. The bad feeling went away at the sight of the familiar numbers, even as Dove let loose another groan while pushing one option at random. It opened a map, but clearly not the one they were looking for if the coastal strip was any indication.
"What the heck? Weiss gave us total junk. These maps aren't even named. They're totally useless," Dove whined, upset at having wasted even five minutes of his time. The others were surprised, even Cardin.
"Really?" the leader asked, raising an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like Miss Perfect."
"What would she name them anyway?" Lark asked, honestly curious. "Frontier forest one? Frontier forest two? What's out there worth naming?" he asked.
"I dunno," Dove replied, "but anything would make more sense than this. These names are just... gibberish! 'NWVC 340 239?' What does that even mean?" he asked. "Sorry man," he offered to Jaune, preparing to turn off the power. "Looks like this junk-"
"Hold it," Jaune interrupted, swallowing another round of nausea and reaching for his rucksack. "Let me check something real quick." While the boys looked on curiously, Jaune dug through his ruck until he found what he was looking for. When he pulled it out, they saw a little black book that Jaune quickly flipped open.
"You have a diary, dude?" Russ asked, either skeptical or bemused. "Who even does that?"
Jaune ignored him, looking for one page in particular. Looking at the screen, then the page, and back to the screen, he nodded to himself. "Go back to the map menu," he told Dove, who did as he said. Jaune grabbed another thing from his bag- this time a well-worn map- and opened it just long enough to check something. He looked back at the screen, scanning the gibberish intently. "Try this one," he said, poking at one of the many lines.
Dove did, and wasn't impressed. "Hey, what do you know. A sea of green. Another empty forest. Big whoop."
Jaune surprised him by taking the scroll from his hands, and then kneeling on the floor of the bullhead. He pulled out his paper map again, and laid it on the floor beside the scroll.
"That's not just any forest - that's the one we need," Jaune said, putting the scroll beside his map. He looked up at them. "This is where we're going."
That caught their interest, and the boys either craned their necks to look or got closer.
"How do you know?" Lark asked, looking at the scroll and the paper. They were, in fact, the same. "There's no name."
"There is, but that's not important. What is important is that these," Jaune tapped the seemingly random numbers, "are grid coordinates. It's telling us what area the map covers."
Russel whistled. "You could tell that just by looking?" he asked, willing to admit he was impressed.
Jaune shrugged. "I've been around most of the frontier. NWVC? That just means North West Vale Coast, or the coast northwest of Vale. The area codes change depending where you go. I just remember these because I learned to hunt in these parts."
That, at least, seemed to get Cardin's attention. He learned forward, clearly paying attention. "Is that so? What can you tell us about the area, Jauney boy?"
Jaune frowned at the name, but answering was his job as a guide. He brushed his hand on the map, getting everyone's attention.
"We'll probably be focused on this area of the Lunar Cry Mountains," Jaune said, indicating a green but clearly unever portion of the maps. Tons of line, some of them in odd circles, showed constant elevation changes. "They call them mountains, but they're really just the forested foothills of the Great Barrier Mountains. Lots of slopes and little valleys between the hills, but nothing too severe. They've been abandoned frontier longer than I've been alive, but thanks to that the game-"
"Is nice, I'm sure," Cardin said impatiently, waving him forward. "What about the Grimm?"
Jaune frowned. Didn't anyone teach these Hunters that Grimm usually mirrored the game of the area? Well, whatever. It's not like he would hunt for them if they asked him anyway.
"Usual forest types," Jaune said. "You got your Beowolves, your nevermore, even Boarbatusks. The Ursa tend to stay closer to the Barrier mountains where there are more caves. You've got mountain streams out here, but no major rivers, so there aren't any water-Grimm to worry about," he said.
The Huntsmen appreciated that, and were all nodding their heads approvingly. "Good. That's useful. What else? Density? Size? Locations?"
Jaune frowned. These were harder questions, and less helpful than they seemed. "This part of the frontier hasn't had humans in some time, so there's no one to really attract them, but there hasn't been anyone to clear them out either. The last time a group of Huntsmen were around to try a purge was...?" He tried to remember, but then a sharper frown came across his face. He took a breath, and pushed past it. "There's a fair number of Grimm, but most aren't that old."
"How much is a fair number? Are we talking packs of Beowolves over every ridge, or loners? What does that actually look like?" Cardin pressed. His team looked down at the map, where the squiggly lines and vaguely circled lines could- if you looked just right- start to show the relief of valleys and ridgelines across the region.
"The Grimm aren't that dense," Jaune said, drawing a finger down some of the smaller valleys. "Grimm are territorial, but they don't co-locate usually. Birds and beasts might, but you'll almost never see a pack of Beowolves and Boarbatusks in the same valley. Actual packs might claim several valleys, and that's good for us."
"It is?" Dove asked, blinking. "Won't that mean there's more of them to deal with?"
"Sure, if you have to," Jaune conceded, but he didn't sound concerned. "But the larger the pack, the more territory, and so the more space to the next pack. That makes it easier to slip between unnoticed. Plus, the Grimm are lazy."
"Ha," Lark scoffed, rubbing his arm. "Could have fooled me."
Jaune narrowed his eyes, just a little. "Not when they know people are around, obviously. But outside of a fight, Grimm are like any other animal- they follow the path of least resistance. Walking uphill is harder than walking downhill, so they'll usually stay in the valley floors. They like shrubbery, so they'll stay in the greener areas to get some. They get thirsty, so they'll pick a nest where it's not too far to get a drink." He shrugged. "Like I said- lazy."
"But everyone knows Grimm don't have to eat," Russ protested. "Why should they care about water? You're just guessing."
"Why do they care about people if they don't need to eat us?" Jaune returned. "I don't know if they'd die without it, but they sure don't seem to mind it. Save with shrubbery. Maybe they don't strictly need it, but even Grimm like softer nests or something to rub against." He shrugged again. "Believe me or not, but I've seen them drinking myself. And I'm still alive, so I'm doing something right," he said.
Surprisingly, it was Cardin who seemed to accept that first. "Let it go," he told Russ. "If he's right, he's right. And if he's wrong, that's what we're here for. One pack every few valleys, you said?" Cardin repeated.
Jaune frowned, just slightly, but nodded. "Yeah. And if you're not making a scene, they probably won't know what's going on the next ridgeline over, let alone care. As long as you don't pick the one part of the valley they're staying, the rest of their territory is pretty safe, especially if you keep to the side of the hills." He paused, but felt compelled to add, "That's as long as you're not detected, though. If you are, territory won't matter. Any Grimm that hears can alert others, and they'll alert more, and they'll all come running. Five Grimm can become fifty, or more, in a matter of minutes." Many hunters had learned that the hard way. He'd been one of the lucky few to survive. His mouth had a thin line as he gathered up his map.
Cardin gave an unwelcome clap on the shoulder, as if to cheer him up.
"Well then," the bigger boy began with clearly false friendliness, "if that happens I hope you're as good at running away as I hear you are."
Breathe. Hold…
The map crumpled in Jaune's fist. He clenched his eyes shut.
Let go…
/-/
To say they landed mid-afternoon would have been a misnomer- in this part of wilds, where there were no farm fields, and forests had been undisturbed for generations. The only clearings there ever were the remains of natural wildfires, and even those were replete with burnt stumps at best and covered with new brush in short order. That was a matter of months after a burn - this 'field' was decades out of date. The Bullhead could only get so close to the ground.
"So, what's the landing strategy?" Jaune asked as they hovered fifty, sixty feet off the ground. Despite his lingering nausea, he took the chance to appreciate a rare view of the forest from up high. Though the treetops made it hard to see the ground itself, the canopy still showed the gentle rise and falls of the hills beneath. A great green carpet stretched to the horizon, all the way to the great barrier mountains barely visible in the distance, where little dots of white capped the mountain peaks. They were lucky to see them- no trees or city pollution to obscure the sky- and no clouds either. Those could have been rolling in from the other direction, a dark mass unquestionably about to let more than shadows fall beneath them. Even from here he could feel it on the warm breeze against his face. Even as he oriented himself to the terrain on his mental map, Jaune took a deep breath as he treasured a view unrivalled by any Kingdom skyscraper.
Team CRDL didn't seem to appreciate the view, or the question. "We land. That's the strategy." Cardin said simply, and led his team in jumping out of the bullhead. No one died from the superhuman feat- no screams of snapped legs or twisted ankles- but then, they were Huntsmen.
Jaune was just a hunter.
"I was kind of hoping for a parachute or something," Jaune lamented. The pilot helpfully lowered a ladder, but it was an awkward affair, especially with his ruck sack on his back. Below him Team Cardinal were watching the skies warily - no nevermore yet, but it was only a matter of time.
"Just drop!" Cardin ordered, impatient. "We'll catch you!"
Jaune considered… and shrugged, letting his ruck fall from his shoulders. It fell about as gracefully as he would have- and hit the ground with a force he wouldn't have been able to walk away from when whichever member of Team Cardinal had been below it had jumped out of the way rather than catch it.
He could hear the sound of a crack even from up here, and hoped it wasn't the frame. This expedition would be a bitch if he had to walk the entire thing with a broken ruck sack.
Russel, the Cardinal who had jumped, had the grace to look… well, sheepish, but not too ashamed call out for Jaune to follow the fate of his ruck. "We'd catch you!" he promised.
Yeah… no. Jaune took the safe way, one step at a time, even if it took an agonizing amount of time.
When he finally placed feet on ground (blessed, unmoving ground), Cardin all but threw his ruck into his arms. "Ruck up," the leader demanded. "We've got to make up time because of you."
Jaune ignored him, inspecting his frame for damage (none-good- the contents broke the fall), and then pulling out the map of the local area before he donned the ruck.
"Worry about yourselves," Jaune said. "I won't be slowing you down."
Not even five minutes later, he was eating those words, or would have if he wasn't trying to breath. Grimm damn it, he was slowing them down. Because they were idiots.
When they had broken into a light jog, he had thought it was because they were in a hurry to get out of the not-really-clear clearing, and under cover that would protect them from Nevermore. Then they had kept jogging- speeding up down a hill- and practically barrelled through the underbrush.
Team Cardinal practically treated like a race- instead of Jaune leading, carefully poking through the brush, they surrounded him as if by prior agreement (which it probably was). If Jaune tried to pick up speed- tried to slip ahead of them so he could at least try to do his job- they sped up to match him. And if Jaune slowed down, they slowed down to- until whoever was behind him, generally Cardin, would give him a shove and tell him to keep up. Until Cardin took the lead broke brush, giving Jaune a clearer path (and making him guard his eyes from countless limb whiplashes).
Jaune put up with it at first- wanted to find the best words first- until they wanted him to run back up a ridgeline. Jaune stopped, and caught his breath.
He received another shove for his respite. "Don't tell me you're tired already," Cardin remarked with scorn. While Jaune was panting beneath his ruck, Cardin and Team Cardinal had barely broken a light sweat despite their armor, even if they too were panting lightly. "Rest at the top," he directed, giving Jaune a goal point.
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
Jaune shot a glare at him even as he regained his breathing. "I'd rather not be that stupid," he said. "This isn't some peaceful woods right outside of Vale. This is the Wildlands! What the heck are you thinking?"
Cardin glowered. "I'm thinking we need to get to Lie Ren as soon as possible," he said. "The sooner we do, the sooner can get out of the Grimm Lands. The fastest way to do that is to take the shortest path between us and him," he said. "And that's that way," he said, pointing in the direction, pointing straight up the hill.
Jaune rolled his eyes. "As the Nevermore flies, sure," he said. "But we're not Nevermore and the Grimm aren't going to ignore us if they see us - which they will, if you cross a ridgeline in full view of everything around, after making a racket breaking brush. Do you hear that?" he asked, cupping his ears.
Team Cardinal stopped, looked, and listened. All they could hear was the sound of their own breathing- and once that calmed, not even that.
"I don't hear anything," Lark claimed.
"Exactly," Jaune said. "You hear nothing because there's nothing around. What does that tell you?"
Dove, not the smartest, didn't catch on. "That there's nothing around to hear us, duh."
Jaune wanted to snap, but held back. It wouldn't do to anger these guys like he had the Huntresses. "It means we've already been heard," he explained. "This is the Wildlands - but Grimm don't hunt. Not like people, anyways. Normally an area like this would be filled with game and birds and animals. A forest this undisturbed should be loud with life and yet it's as silent as the grave."
Cardin was a bit quicker on the uptake. "You think the Grimm have noticed us?" His team gasped and instinctively went for their weapons.
Jaune quickly shook his head, but kept his voice low. "If the Grimm knew where we are, they'd be attacking. The fact that they aren't means we're safe for now. But they'll notice the forest is silent, and they'll be curious as to why."
"What do you suggest?" Dove asked.
Jaune pulled out his map, and Team Cardinal gathered around.
"We go around the ridgelines, where it's harder to be seen, and not over, where anything around can see us doing so," Jaune said, sketching a far more meandering route on his map with a finger. "And not barging through everything like a Boarbatusk on a roll. We need to walk."
"But that'll take forever!" Lark protested. Not only would they be increasing their distance, they'd be halving their pace- or worse. "We're on the clock here!"
Jaune shook his head, remembering what his Uncle had taught him. "Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," he returned. "If we're noticed, it'll draw the attention of every Grimm in miles- and that'll slow us down even more. Or bring their attention to your friend."
"He's not our friend," Cardin responded, but he gave Jaune serious consideration… for now, at least.
"Alright, Jauney boy," he decided, and Jaune bristled at the patronizing tone. "We'll play it your way for now. Lead on… but don't forget who's in charge here," he said. "If we fall behind, we'll do it my way."
Jaune nodded. Not like he expected much else from a pack of wannabe-heroes.
Time to show them how a real hunter walked.
/-/
Jaune was in overdrive, on a hot streak, in the zone, or any number of metaphors that wouldn't have made any sense to him so far from the city. But even he knew he was doing good. Call it pride, call it ego, call it refusing to give less than his best when Team Cardinal was watching for the slightest hint of a screw up - but he did his job right.
Telling them to walk quietly through the brush, Jaune gave them a direction and scouted ahead. Moving faster they would, keeping quieter than they could, Jaune put distance between them and let them catch up. Scouting the turns, keeping an ear to the ground (literally, at times), and letting Team Cardinal catch up just enough so that they would see him and know he hadn't left them behind.
That would have been easier than it should have been, and Jaune may have had more fun toying with the idea than was proper. Every time they caught up- by the time they picked him apart from the foliage and saw him patiently waiting on a rock or log or leaning against a tree- they never ceased being surprised at just how close they were to him by the time he let his presence be known. Then, before they could reach him and whatever spot he'd chosen to rest, he'd be up again and darting into the brush. They strained over their own breaths to hear the very soft pitter-patter he left behind, the sound of leaves and needles nothing compared to relative cacophony they made until he was out of sight again. They would follow, as best they could, and then the cycle would repeat as he made sure they were on the right path once again.
The forest hills were real, but not quite mountainous, and the canopy shade was thick enough that the worst of the summer heat was averted. He was sweating more from the humidity than the hardship, and though he might have been tempted to take off the jacket were he on his own he was glad for the protection against the underbrush all the same. Without needing his bow out to hunt he was free to use his gloved hands freely, and he wasn't encumbered by having to carry his prey around either. For him, today was an easy hike.
For Team CRDL, it was something else, and mostly their own fault. They were clearly not used to the humidity, not used to spending so long outside and away from the comforts of an air-conditioned training area. One hour, maybe two, and they had made no complaints. Three, four, and they were gasping, sweat was visibly soaking their clothes. A lot of that was their own fault, the consequence of hiking in full armour in the middle of the summer. They also insisted in carrying their weapons at the ready at all times, a defensiveness that struck Jaune as paranoid. The Grimm were always a threat out here, yeah, but not in the sense of appearing out of nowhere at any time.
But really, they just struggled trying to keep a formation on the side of a hill, rather than working on relatively flat terrain like a training yard. To him, it was no problem, but they struggled with balance and pace, clambering over rocks when it would conserve energy to traverse around them. It was worse in in the draws with thickets because of their tendency to cut through brush rather than seek the easier path. That was the thing about Huntsmen, he supposed. They liked to face their problems head on.
They were getting tired, the pressure of the silence and tension and the weight of their own feet catching up with them. Jaune could see it. So could Cardin, and after the fourth hour he finally called a break. Team Cardinal could outrun Jaune… but Jaune could outwalk them. Not a surprise- he'd walked a horse to death before.
Russel, Dove, and Lark all but collapsed in exhaustion. Cardin didn't- almost flushing in shame as he saw Jaune's raised eyebrow at the three- but took to overseeing his people. "Take five. Eat something and drink water," he directed, but didn't follow his own advice until he saw his team doing so. None of them had bags, but they had small pockets and pouches with what they'd brought with them.
They were going to regret their packing choices soon enough, but hopefully it wouldn't matter if they could keep this pace up.
"We're behind schedule," Cardin said to Jaune. "We're not going to find him today."
Jaune disagreed. "We're on track. We can reach him this evening."
Cardin gave a derisive snort. "Not if we keep moving at this pace. We need to either speed up or cut ridges."
Jaune frowned. "They're more likely to find us."
Cardin didn't care. "Then let them- we can handle a few Grimm."
Jaune disliked that sort of arrogance. "It's not a matter of a few Grimm- out here, it could be five, or fifty, with another five hundred less than an hour away."
"Then we need to spend fewer hours here," Cardin said. "But we're not going to fall further behind schedule. Either you find us a shorter path, or we'll start running after you again."
Jaune grimaced. "Give me ten minutes," he said, dropping his pack, and disappeared into the brush.
Cardin watched him go, almost impressed despite himself at how quickly Jaune escaped his senses.
"What a rube," Lark muttered. "Looking down on us because we can't be quiet and be sneaky shits like him."
"Guy acting all superior when he couldn't keep up jogging. I'd like to see him face-to-face with a Grimm," Russel was bitter.
"At least we got another five minutes to rest," Dove pointed out, taking his silver lining where he could.
"Not a chance- we go on our schedule, not his," Cardin decreed. "You three be ready in three- if he's not back, we'll pick up and follow him. I haven't heard or seen any Grimm around- have you? We're wasting time, and a guide who can't get us where we need on time isn't much use at all."
"But, uh, what if we come across Grimm?" Lark asked, a bit nervous.
"Then we take them out quick and quiet," Cardin said. "Simple as that."
His team groaned, but in a way that Cardin knew meant they would comply. While they checked their feet, shaking some loose twigs or grit from their shoes, Cardin finally took a drink from his own canteen as he carefully watched the clock on his scroll. When the time passed, he was just about to decide who would carry Jaune's bag when a voice sounded from behind.
"I've got good news and bad news," Jaune whispered by way of greeting, making them jump in fright and spin around.
"Sweet Lord, stop doing that!" Lark demanded, but his voice was low as well- reading the cue from Jaune's own.
Cardin ignored his teammate. "What do you have for me?" he demanded.
"Bad news is that there's Grimm just over and down the ridge. A pack of Boarbatusks," Jaune revealed.
"How do you know?" Dove asked, gripping his daggers.
"I saw them."
"I thought you didn't go over the ridge lines."
"I looked over. Carefully," Jaune claimed.
"So, what's the good news?" Sky wanted to know, whispering. "How many are there?"
"I'm not sure- but they're all in a den, and sleeping. Must be a night brood that's sleeping for the day. If we stay quiet and go around, they'll never know we're here."
"How many?" Cardin wanted to know.
"Not sure," Jaune admitted. "They're in a den- at least four from where I could see, but that's not important." He pointed back in the way they had previous travelled. "It's a little out of the way, but I know a narrow draw that would take us past them. It might add half an hour, but we'd get by without a fight."
Cardin stood. "That's too long. We'll move across the ridge and take them."
Jaune looked at him in surprise. "But we don't need to," he tried to argue. "They're not a threat to us."
Cardin gave a contemptuous laugh. "They're Grimm. They're always a threat. Just for existing they deserve to die- and I'm not going to let them delay us any longer. This way we do the world a favor, take a shorter path, and don't have to worry about our flank later tonight." He rose, and Team CRDL rose behind him, a look of anticipation on their faces.
With Cardin committed, Jaune could either help them pull this off… or not, and watch them try. Even if he disagreed- even if this was a bad idea- not going along with it would be worse.
"Bloody blood-thirsty Huntsmen," he muttered under his breath as Team Cardinal staged itself on this side of the Ridge-
Their chances would be better if he tried to help than not. So he guided them to the proper place along the ridge, and pointed out the Grimm den. There they were- the bane of mankind, monsters of the night, curled up and sleeping like cuddly cute dolls with bony tusks and dreaming sweet dreams of flesh and blood.
"Perigen Falcon formation," Cardin told his team. "You just stay here and out of the way," he told Jaune.
"Perigen Falcon?" Jaune asked
"It means we'll be so quick they won't have a chance to make noise." He gave a mocking grin. "Don't worry, we'll be quiet," he said. "Now stay back and watch real Huntsmen at work."
And then jumped.
All of Team Cardinal took a running jump- leaping in a way Jaune never had and probably never would- straight over the ridge and down the far hill like birds of prey. Cardin, mouth roaring a silent battle cry, landed at the mouth of the den with a mighty blow of his mace that crushed the Grimm, tusks and all, in a single hit. No sooner had he done so than the follow-up halberd flew into the den, pinning something with a pained, mercifully short, squeal. The two remaining members of CRDL darted in, sword and daggers raised, and made short work of whatever remained.
And just like that, it was over. By the time Jaune walked down the ridge, ruck on his back and carefully keeping eyes peeled for any other Grimm or dens, there weren't even scratches on them.
Cardin was standing tall, standing proud, chest puffed out. "And that's how real Huntsmen get things done, Jauney boy" he boasted. "No pussyfooting around like you."
Jaune glared, but didn't look in Cardin's direction. "You know that was reckless, right?" he asked, just to make sure.
"What?" Cardin said, false innocence. "Everyone knows Grimm go in packs of their own. No more Boarbatusks. No more threat."
Jaune still looked around. There was something in the air- something he couldn't see, but could sense all the same, and there was that-
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
And then Jaune knew.
"Grimm shit!" he swore, just before there was a scream and a flapping of wings.
"Nevermore!" Russel cried, even as grabbed for his shoulder.
"Don't let it get away!" Cardin roared. "It'll alert the rest of the Grimm!"
Eyes darted, trying to find where the wings were flapping-
"There!" Dove cried, pointing in the direction of flapping wings. It was small- minute really- a baby bird of murder, still no bigger than a crow.
"Sky!" Cardin directed.
"On it!" the silver-haired member of the Team said, and hefted his halberd for a mighty throw. It lanced through the air, chasing down the fleeing Grimm.
The Grimm turned. The halberd missed. It got away.
Jaune lowered his bow, having never fired.
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
Cardin did not. Armored fists grabbed Jaune by his jacket and lifted him up, high enough that his feat left the ground.
"What the hell?" Cardin demanded. "Why didn't you shoot?!"
"There was no point," Jaune answered simply.
"No point?!" Cardin echoed. "It got away! You could have stopped it!"
Jaune shook his head. "A Nevermore that young wouldn't be far from its murder, and they'd know that one of their own was killed. Killing it wouldn't have made a difference. The Grimm know we're here. Killing it would have alerted the murder."
"What was - we're still good, right?" Dove asked, paling. "It can't talk. They don't know we're here. They can't!"
"What- what do we do?" Russel asked, shaken.
Cardin looked to Jaune, and imperceptibly paled when Jaune gave a silent nod.
"Get your weapon," Jaune told Sky in a tone that brooked no disagreement.
"Now, we run."
/-/
They ran.
It wasn't the first time Jaune had fled Grimm in their own lands.
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
It wasn't the first time he'd doubted every shadow, wanted to duck at every bent twig.
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
It wasn't the first time he'd fled for his life. He wasn't scared.
But it was the first time he'd fled for someone else's.
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
Unlike him, they were afraid.
And in the Grimm Lands, fear was death.
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
He didn't stop outright, didn't pretend to be spent, didn't make them fear that they were going to be caught. But he did slow- carefully, steadily, setting a pace. Repeating his mantra, he controlled his breathing- in, out. Step, breath. Breathe, hold, let go, and do it again.
His stride, became steady. His breath set the rhythm. He set the pace- and then the pace slowed.
Ten minutes after they started- ten minutes that felt like an hour- the finally stopped when Jaune slowed to a walk.
"What are we stopping for? They're still behind us! We need to keep moving!" Dove urged- but the panic that had once had his eyes wide had subsided. His breath was caught even before they stopped.
"We're safe. We can stop running now," Jaune lied. It was a lie in the sense that the Grimm Lands were never safe- death always around the bend, no place ever safe for long. But it would be true - or true enough - if they believed him.
They did- probably because his voice was steady, and his tone calm, and his posture screamed the confidence born of experience.
"We're far enough away that they aren't likely to find us," Jaune claimed. "Even Nevermore can't see through these trees. If anything, we're going to run into new Grimm."
"But behind us-" Russel began.
Cardin gave him a sharp shove. "We're in the Grimm Lands, dolt. There are Grimm all around us."
That didn't put them at ease, even if it was honest.
Jaune tried a different way. "Grimm are territorial.
"We're in the Grimmlands, dolt. There are Grimm all around us," Cardin said, giving a sharp shove. That was honest, but didn't put them at ease. Jaune tried another way.
"Grimm are territorial," he began, as soothing as he could. "They don't fight each other over intrusions, but they don't cross it lightly either. Unless they're on your track they won't follow you for long."
"Then how do you survive out here?" Lark asked. "You're just going from Grimm to Grimm."
"You keep moving forward, no matter what," Jaune answered. "Never stay in one Grimm's territory any longer than you have to. Never pick a fight you can avoid. But never rush in a panic. These are the Grimm Lands- they belong to the Grimm. This is their territory. We're the trespassers here. Remember to act like it."
The Huntsmen gritted their teeth at being told that- but held their tongue. Even they knew that they couldn't handle an entire forest of Grimm.
Dove tried to make the best of it. "Well, at least we're ahead of schedule, right?" he hoped. "All that running-"
Jaune didn't say anything- didn't want to lie and bring back their anxiety. They'd run… but not in the best direction. In trying to keep them behind ridges and out of sight- in trying to let them burn off their nervous energy until they were calm- they'd gone off track. They weren't lost- but they weren't where he wanted to be either.
Cardin saw him thin his lips, and withheld a grimace himself. But he kept the lie. "Don't get complacent. We're walking as far as we can tonight."
And so they did. The evening passed in silence. After their scare, they listened to Jaune, but even he could feel the tension piling on them. The fingering of weapon hilts to calm them. The way every crack was treated as a potential oncoming hoard. The leaping at shadows. Soon the Grimm wouldn't need to see them, they'd be able to smell the fear.
Still they went deeper into the forest- or tried, until even the moon was blocked out by impenetrable clouds. "Ow!" Dove exclaimed as he walked into a branch he couldn't see. Maybe it had always been there, or maybe it was whiplash from Cardin in front of him.
Either way, a soft glow of aura soon lit the area as a scratch healed itself. It had been doing that a lot- especially as the sleeveless boy was nicked by the brush. And just like every other time, Jaune hissed in displeasure and shielded his eyes too late.
"Keep it down, will you?" Jaune asked. He could have been talking about the aura, or the sound, or the light.
"It hurt!"
"Deal with it," Lark snapped.
"Easy for you to say. I don't have armor or sleeves like the rest of you!" Dove shot back.
"And whose fault is that?" Jaune muttered, unable to help himself. It's not like them going into the woods was a secret.
Russell tried to rouse their spirits. "Look at the bright side, Dove," he suggested. "Just be glad you aren't Team RWBY."
There was a couple of chuckles, and even Jaune felt his lips curl upward. Miniskirts, garters, and more skin and unkept hair than you could shake a fashion magazine at?
And hiking in heels, no less? He hoped Kalie took some before and after pictures.
If there wasn't a life on the line, this would no doubt be an excellent learning experience for these young Huntsmen. A practical demonstration of what the real world outside the Kingdom walls was like, and the consequences of poor planning for the wilderness. But of course, there was a life on the line, and the thought that this entire rescue expedition was being treated like a training trip brought his lips back down.
"Wouldn't be so bad if we could see anything," Dove muttered, glancing at the cloudy sky above. Only the moon shone brightly enough to be seen through the overcast, and even then, just barely.
"If you weren't killing our night-vision with your aura, we'd be able to see things," Russell snapped. That might have been true most nights- but on a night with so little illumination, there still wouldn't be anything to see with, night-vision or no.
That sparked an idea for Dove. "Well, what if I kept it on?" he wondered, and deliberately began to rise his aura.
Cardin beat Jaune to the punch, which is to say he gave a punch rather than a frantic grab. "Knock it off," he said, an easily absorbed blow rocking Dove's head. "You shine that light, and every Grimm around will be able to see us."
More than that, actually, but Jaune didn't have to answer. Dove rubbed his head, but followed his team leader's point.
"Jauney boy," Cardin called, bringing their guide into the conversation for the first time since the slowdown. "How much longer?" he wanted to know. "Can we reach him tonight?"
Jaune considered. Considering how off-track they'd been thanks to their run- considering the rate of progress- weighing the chances that they might get the attention of some nocturnal Grimm or stumble into a fight…
Sky Lark tripped on a root and fell into a bush.
"Probably not," Jaune admitted with a sigh. He could- but not with them. Not before dawn rose anyway. And even if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to find this particular spot again.
"Then we won't," Cardin decided, making the command decision. "We stop and rest till dawn. Everyone gets some sleep."
Jaune didn't protest, didn't argue. It wasn't a bad decision.
But this was the Grimm Lands. Rest was one thing… but would any of these four be able to sleep?
/-/
The answer, obvious soon enough, was no. There were as many reasons as there were members of Team CRDL, and Jaune considered each with a cautious eye as he took in the crevice of a draw he'd chosen as a hold-up location. It was barely more than a crevice on the side of a hill, out of site even during the daylight, and as safe as anything would be about here. Saying that had done little for the others, who'd been hoping to find a lucky cave to hole up in until they'd given up looking.
Cardin, team leader that he was, took the first guard shift despite Jaune volunteering. Perhaps he was being the Team Leader he should be, selflessly wanting his teammates to get some rest while they could. Perhaps he selfishly didn't want his own sleep interrupted in the middle of the night. Maybe he just didn't think a country bumpkin without a huntsman education capable of standing guard, or of recognising a Beowolf from a sparrow. It didn't matter. Nor did his dismissal of Jaune's volunteering for the first shift. Jaune had his reasons to stay up for now. He'd be on alert all night regardless. Too on guard to really be called asleep even when he was resting.
Dove was the first to complain about the ground and comfort: uneven, lumpy, sticks and stones and the awkwardly placed root. They dared not take off their armour, and had brought no pillow worth the name. They sent envious looks at his ruck sack, which was resting under a tree. They hadn't brought sleeping bags - none of the Huntsmen seemed to have brought anything but meagre rations which were eaten in silence. They had come out here intending to rough it out, but now the Wildlands were out roughing them. Maybe they'd expected an easy and quick affair, the Grimm fleeing in terror from brave Huntsmen.
Russel, Mohawk boy that he was, lucked out on the issue of armour, but had his own problem instead. The boy was practically curled into a ball as the night chill set in, shivering whenever a breeze blew by. Too proud or nervous to seek body warmth, but too cold to fall asleep, he had to be repeatedly told not to start a fire. Jaune considered digging out his spare jacket to give to him, but decided against volunteering it, considering how freely Russel had helped himself to his supplies earlier. The boy had every reason, and every opportunity, to pack ahead of time. He'd survive a cold night. It'd even teach the Hunter a lesson about trying to power through the wilds. Jaune relished the thought even as he was grateful for his own hooded jacket.
Lark, though… Jaune felt pity for Sky Lark, as the boy looked mournfully at the clouds above them as it started to sprinkle. Rain was never fun. It didn't kill you - not directly - but it made everything worse. You could have a poncho (which none of CRDL did). You could wear water-resistant clothing (which Jaune did - relishing his jacket once again). But you couldn't do anything about the ground turning to muddy slush beneath you, about your comfortable little wallow turning into a puddle. Rain meant being wet. Wet meant everything was colder, stickier, and messier. Jaune had his jacket, but only one poncho for when it really rained hard, and that poncho was only big enough for one person. Maybe two, if you didn't mind sharing space.
These were reasons they might not fall asleep. These were certainly reasons they'd give if he asked. But Jaune knew the real reason- the reason they weren't all just hugging their knees and looking at each other miserably, but were looking into the darkness with wide eyes. Could hear it in their breathing, which would pause at any inopportune crack from outside their meagre perimeter. Could practically smell it downwind of them as he walked outside their perimeter, fiddling with brush even as he disappeared in and out of their sight. The fact that they could see what he was doing- turning twigs into tripwires, moving brush here and there to better see or not be seen- the fact that he was improving their perimeter only drove in that there things out there to need a perimeter against.
They were afraid. And in the Wildlands, fear was death.
Only one thing to do, then. Time for a distraction.
Jaune finished his patrol, and made his to his pack and picked it up, getting their attention as he did so. He carried it towards them- towards the little spot under the trees where Team CRDL was huddled cold and awake, and plopped down his ruck in front of them before taking a seat on it.
"How you liking your first night in the Wildlands?" Jaune asked from his meagre throne. "Living the Legend yet?"
"It sucks. It's cold." Russel was the first to respond. He threw a covetous look at Jaune's hunter's jacket.
"Forget the cold, it's wet," Lark groused. He too threw a covetous look at Jaune's hunter's jacket- not only long sleeved and warm, but blessedly water-resistant so that the rain dribbled off and slid over, rather than being absorbed. "How are we supposed to sleep when it's raining?" he asked.
Experience, Jaune wanted to say, but didn't. It was true - if you got so tired you'd pass out in the rain, after a while you wouldn't mind it so much, but it wouldn't help them.
"Dry socks," he said instead. "If you can keep your feet dry up on a root, out of puddles, then dry socks make everything else better. Put 'em on before you go to sleep, and you'll wake up without pruned feet. Put 'em on after a long walk, and your feet will thank you for not swimming in sweat. Dry socks are one of the three secrets to happiness in life out here," Jaune claimed.
"What are the other two?" Lark wanted to know.
Jaune gave an enigmatic smile. "If I told, they wouldn't be secrets," he said, earning at least one chuckle.
But not from everyone. "Well, call that another thing to pack next time we're out here," Russel groused. "Right after a jacket."
Russell nodded. "And a blanket. How do nomads stand it out here? Forget the Grimm, how can they sleep at night? How do they even live?"
Experience, Jaune wanted to say again. When the wilds was your life, you either made do, or you died. Simple. After a point your body got so tired it wouldn't care about comfort, and then you could find comfort in the smallest of things. But he didn't say that, because he didn't want to distract from Russel's topic direction. They were bitching about being miserable, sure… but like Uncle said, men who have time and energy to bitch about it aren't that miserable. It's when they were quiet - so Grimm-shocked that they had too much fear to care about minor pleasantries – that's when it was bad.
This was better. So, of course, it would end.
"They don't," Cardin claimed, speaking up. "Everyone knows the nomads are a dying breed. Just like villages on the frontier, they're constantly getting wiped out by Grimm. Everyone smart enough to know better comes to the Kingdoms to live. Anyone too dumb to do that gets overwhelmed by the Grimm."
"Except us, right? Hahaha…" Russell laughed weakly.
Jaune narrowed his eyes slightly, and not just at the slight against everyone who lived on the frontier. Cardin was ruining things… again. He'd have to provide (another) distraction. But thanks to Cardin, he knew which one to use.
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Jaune hedged. "Some of the clans have been around longer than the Kingdoms," he claimed, "and a lot of villages simply pick up and move rather than be overrun. Edge is the third place I've lived, and that's not even including the time I've spent in the Wildlands."
"See what I mean?" Cardin said to his team, urging a laugh. "Too dumb to live in the Kingdoms."
More like smart enough not to live with those-
Breathe. Hold. Let go.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Jaune said, a cool smile in his eyes as if seeing a joke they had yet to recognize. "Hiding from Grimm behind massive walls might be safer, but it doesn't require brains. Not like living off your wits and outsmarting the Grimm out here. Tell me… have you ever heard the Legend of the Moon Ursa?" he asked.
It was clear none of them had. Three of them leaned in, fear forgotten for the moment, and even Cardin looked interested as Jaune began his tale. Perfect. Tales around a campfire, or well, a muddy and cold wallow, would serve to raise spirits where reality couldn't. That was what such folk tales were for, after all. Well, that and to teach valuable lessons.
"Once upon a time there was an Ursa of unusual strength and ferocity. The beast's eyes were red gems in the night, while its arms were said to be so great they could crush several trees in one swing. Worse, this Grimm proved to be quite the territorial one, which allowed it to feast and grow in secret long before anyone knew of its existence." Jaune paused to gauge their reactions, and smiled when not one of them interrupted. "It terrorised the Wildlands to the west, destroying village after village until all that remained was a desolate wasteland. There, the Ursa declared its territory, hunting and killing any human who dared approach. The monster grew and grew, glutting itself on those who fell until it was as tall as a small mountain. With valuable food and supplies trapped on the other side, the people of the frontier were desperate."
"Why didn't they call for Huntsmen?" Russel asked, intrigued.
"They did," he replied, not missing a beat. "First, they called for a single Huntsman – a man of great strength and reputation, who wielded a mighty spear that was said to be capable of piercing the stars themselves. The Huntsman listened to the villagers, but refused to heed their warnings about the Ursa's territory. He rushed off to face it, stepping into its land and shouting out for the beast to face him."
"Did he kill it?"
"It wouldn't be much of a story if he did," Cardin grunted. "I'm taking it he died."
Jaune nodded. "The Huntsman tried to match his strength to the Ursa's, but despite being one of the strongest around, he wasn't able to overpower the monster. He lodged his spear into its back, but it managed to snap it in two and then catch the Huntsman in a bearhug. He was crushed to death, his back broken in two."
The Huntsmen before him winced.
"So, the villagers did the only thing they could and sent out for another Huntsman. Except this time, it was a Huntress who answered. Graceful and lithe, she was well-known for speed and skill capable of outrunning even the fastest Nevermore. Death by a thousand cuts was what she promised, and two thin daggers would be the tools. She was more cautious than the Huntsman, listening to tales of the beast, and considering why the previous Huntsman had fallen. Only when she was ready did she step out in search of the Moon Ursa."
"She found him prowling in the middle of the night," he continued, "The Huntress fell upon him and the battle was fierce. She landed blow after blow, forever using her incredible speed and agility to escape. For the longest time, it looked like victory might be hers – and it's said that she cut the monster over nine-hundred times, enough to have its blood spilling across its skin. Unfortunately, she was caught before she could land the one-thousandth strike, trapped against the side of a mountain as the huge Grimm spread its arms wide and fell down upon her. She tried to use her speed to escape, but she sheer size of the monster proved too much. She was crushed under its incredible weight."
In the pause that followed, Jaune let his eyes stray over each of them. They all looked interested enough, but Cardin had his arms crossed over his chest and was still mostly focused on keeping watch. Seeing their interest, Jaune took a quick sip of water and pushed on.
"For months, more and more Huntsmen came to try and slay the Moon Ursa. Those who were strong, fast, and even groups who boasted some of the greatest teamwork known in Vale. They all came, and they all fell, chipping away at the monster. Ultimately, the death toll rose, and the Kingdom decided the Ursa was too much a threat to deal with. So long as it remained on the frontier, it would be allowed to exist. And should it come closer to Vale, a more concerted effort to kill it would be mounted."
"And that's the end of the tale?" Dove asked. "Lame."
"For Vale, perhaps, but not for the villagers. While the decision would spare Huntsmen lives, it wouldn't do much for the people trapped on the Ursa's borders, especially not if it decided to expand them, or hunt the innocents nearby. Worse still, some of the best hunting grounds were in its land. As you may know, Grimm do not kill or hunt animals, which means where the Grimm claim, wildlife is allowed to flourish. The biggest and strongest deer are in its territory, and people need to eat. Medicinal plants, too, not to mention all the land on the other side – which the people needed access to. The Ursa's land had to be crossed. They needed a plan."
"So, what? What did they do?"
"The villagers knew that they would not be able to defeat the Moon Ursa," Jaune said. "Huntsmen and Huntresses had failed to do just that, but the people were hardy and knew the land. They had lived here for many years. They came up with a plan to trick the beast, not with a view to killing it, but to avoid it. A great pyre was lit on one end of its territory, and when the Ursa wandered off to investigate, teams of hunters and gatherers would farm the land, or people would pass through – retreating once a horn sounded the Moon Ursa's return. This continued for several years, and a strange peace was struck. If the Moon Ursa could be avoided, then there was no need to kill it. While they could not live in peace together, the two sides could at least avoid one another."
"So, they just left the Grimm loose? Sounds like a bad idea."
"Oh, it was," he agreed. "It didn't seem it at first, but the Grimm began to learn that the pyre would yield no prey, and worse, the people had become complacent, with one person often lighting the pyre themselves and then looping around to hunt in its land. They believed the huge beast's footfalls would be warning enough of its return. A young and foolish hunter from a local village was the one who learned of their mistake. He lit the pyre, fed the flames, and then travelled to the opposite end of its territory and listened. When no loud noises could be heard, the hunter believed himself safe and started to hunt deer under the moonlight. He brought down a doe and was making ready to transport it when something changed. When the world went dark." Jaune leaned forward. "The Moon Ursa had eaten the moon."
"Bullshit!" Sky cried, miming as though to throw something at him. "Damn thing's still up there right now, and don't you dare tell me it's like that because some Ursa took a bite out of it."
Jaune chuckled and shook his head. "Tales and legends like to exaggerate at times," he admitted. "As the tale goes, it ate the moon, but the truth is that it was just so large it blocked it from the hunter – casting the world around him into darkness." He waited for the others to chuckle and shake their heads. "Even so, the situation was dire, and the hunter was neither as strong as the Huntsman, nor as fast as the Huntress. He fled as best he could, but the Ursa had a long stride, and even a slow walk was enough to keep pace. Knowing he would be doomed, and knowing the Moon Ursa would follow him back to his village if he didn't lose him, the hunter ducked into a small cave, one that was still within the monster's territory. For two nights and one day he stayed there, licking water from the cave walls and eating what little supplies he had. The Ursa, tireless and sleepless, prowled outside, waiting for its pretty to exit – or to starve."
"And did he?" Russel asked. "Most Grimm don't need to rest, but I'm guessing this thing was too big to fit in the cave."
"Huntsman protocol says to call and wait for reinforcements," Dove added. "If you can't kill it yourself, that is."
"Well, this hunter had no reinforcements," Jaune interrupted, "and no way to call for more, if they would even come. He had only himself, his bow, three arrows and what supplies he carried on his back. What he did have, however, was his knowledge of the Wildlands, and how to survive in them. He knew that rain was coming, from both the scent in the air and the sound of the wind. In preparation for this, he brought what little wood he had from his pack and began to build a big fire at the mouth of the cave – just far enough in as to be safe from the Ursa's paws."
"When the rain came, it was a downpour, the beginning of the monsoon season, much like now. It came down mercilessly, and coated the air with moisture. The hunter's fire started, but with the wood damp, it produced a vast amount of smoke – enough to hide within. His plan was to sneak out under the cover of the billowing smoke, and then to slip away in the rain, using the noise to cover his as he returned to safety."
"Hm." Cardin grunted, but didn't interrupt.
"The plan went flawlessly, at least for a while. The fire burned and the smoke began to billow, being fanned out of the entrance by the hunter. Sadly, the Moon Ursa noticed, and started to claw and pace at the entrance. Even if it did not understand, it sensed activity, and was mindless in its desire to kill the little hunter. It could not see, however." Jaune made a gesture to his eyes, and then to the world around them. "The smoke made its eyes sting and water, and prevented it from getting any view of the hunter within the cave. Perhaps fearing its prey might escape, or simply showing its instincts, the Ursa got down onto its knees and paws, pushing its snout and face into the cave."
"It was then that the hunter struck!" Jaune slapped his hand against a wooden log, making the Huntsmen jump. "Knowing it was his only choice, the hunter had picked up a piece of burning wood, and slashed it at the Moon Ursa's giant eye. The eyeball exploded, and the wound sealed shut, while the Ursa tore back its face and roared in pain and fury. The hunter, seeing his chance, fled out of the cave, chased by its agonised cries."
Jaune leaned back, smiling. "Ever since, the Moon Ursa's lands have remained unchallenged, and it is said the monster cries out even now, seeking its vengeance against the only one who truly wounded it."
There was a long moment of silence after the tale had ended, one in which he waited for their comments. He wasn't disappointed, at least by their enthusiasm. The content, however? Well, he ought to have guessed.
"Lame!" Russel sounded. "What a weak story!"
"What kind of legend doesn't end with the Grimm dead and the Huntsmen saving the village?" Lark asked. "He could have at least gone back and called some Huntsmen, or gathered the village and killed it himself. Fah, some legend."
"It's to teach a valuable lesson," Jaune offered.
Cardin interrupted him, "Yeah, that you should avoid Grimm." The sarcasm was thick. "Valuable lesson."
Jaune opened his mouth to argue, to explain that the lesson was one on intelligence, on how a normal person could protect themselves given a plan, some basic knowledge and a little bit of luck. In the end, however, he didn't bother. He shook his head and laid back, watching as the four Huntsmen banded together to critique and laugh at the tale, at the idea of this Moon Ursa, and how they'd go about slaying it. They might have missed the point, but at least they weren't quite so glum anymore.
That was one thing, he supposed. He just hoped it would last.
C.F. Notes
Howdy, C.F. here, for another chapter's worth of notes.
We're finally in the wilds, still in the prologue, but most importantly still in the portion I initially wrote out. People familiar with me know I plan more scene-by-scene than Coeur's continuous chapters, and that format difference shows here. We actually struggled to identify the best place to end the chapter this time, needing to balance chapter length for this versus next chapter's. Things that would work with fast micro-updates don't always work as well as Coeur novel chapters. Fortunately, this should be the last before Coeur has more freedom on flow now that we're past the set-up.
Our first look at the wilds doesn't actually focus as much on the wilds as we'd like, but again we were pushing for progress here. Considering how this story was conceived, we'll definitely take a deeper focus on the great outdoors later. This is more of a chapter to start dipping our feet into some other aspects of the world other than 'Jaune has issues.' Which, surprisingly, don't seem to dominate when Team CRDL is involved in the wilds- which may itself tell you something about Jaune's earlier encounters.
Speaking of Jaune's story, though, our cliff hanger this chapter is setting up what I hope to be one of the funner parts of this story- Legends. Legends are, well, legends, stories within this story. They'll be our own look at building the world of RWBY from a occasionally referenced but rarely used viewpoint- the idea of the stories Remnant tells itself. Such stories have a special place in Hunter or Something, and will hopefully be fun to do along the way. We have some in mind already, but others remain blank slates, and who knows? If some of you write some suitable legends, we might crib some ideas with hats off to you. At the very least, the RWBY fandom could use some 'legends of remnant' fanfiction, don't you think? Work on some of that community fanon.
Finally, an invitation/challenge to all of Coeur's fans- I double dare you to work on all the tropes you can for Coeur's stories at the site tvtropes. For those not aware, tvtropes is a wiki site that looks at the various tropes (tricks and patterns) that are used in fiction, big and small. Besides being a way to waste hours of your life, it's also a way to learn the sort of things you like (or are tired of seeing) in your stories. Great experience, and even a good thing for the likes of Coeur to look back on after the fact.
(Plus, it'll be fun to see how the trope list for a story like this might grow and evolve over time. As a certain man once said- Do it! Just do it!)
Cheers,
C.F.
Next Chapter: 21st October
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur