Konnichiwa konnichiwa, Planeshunter here! This is somewhat shorter than intended, but... life is about to become way busier, so this might be my last update in a while, and I didn't want to disappear without a last chapter. More info in the afterwords.

More than a sound, is the sudden absence of it what breaks Blake's stupor. Jolly's engine has stopped. Realizing they have stopped in front of an inn-looking building, she releases her grip and stretches.

To be honest, she had been surprised when her partner suddenly decided to leave the sidecar at home. "Too much weight" she had said. Not that she can complain. Jolly's seat is big and comfortable enough, and holding to her companion's back was far warmer than a lonely, unprotected seat. If only she had agreed to get her exuberant hair under a helmet, it would've been paradise.

-"First stop!"- The blonde announces cheerfully- "Warm meals, reasonably bedbug-free and acceptably clean showers! A luxury for the battle-hardened hunter! The Wolf and the Lamb!"

The building has a sign that actually reads all that, under a logo of what seemed like a liberally drawn beowolf and a white furry humanoid wearing a mask, eerily similar and yet different from any Grimm she knew. Judging for the way Yang behaves, it seems like she knows the place.

-"So?" -Blake asks, knowing full well that she's playing into her partner's little plot, whatever it is- "What's the story behind that sign?"

The questioned just smiles and kicks the door open before entering with cheerful steps.

-"Yo, old man!" -Her greeting is loud enough for anyone to hear from outside- "Did you miss your favorite patron?"

By the time Blake entered, she was already facing the bartender with a big grin in her face while he apparently tried to ignore her. The faunus girl lets a smile escape her lips. There was something in the man that makes her think back to her days with the White Fang (The good times, before everything went to hell) and about the old, battle-hardened veterans who always seemed in a foul mood, but actually were too happy to dot on the young ones at the first chance. This man was most likely a retired soldier of some kind.

As soon as she closes the door, the man's stare locks on her. There's no doubt now. She has seen that sharp, inquisitive gaze before.

-"Ah, Blake, come, lemme make the introductions! Old man, this is my partner, Blake. She's a bit of a bookworm, but I wouldn't trust my back to anyone else. Blake, this old man is… old man, the owner of the damn best inn in all Patch."

-"A pleasure."

With the man's gaze still on her, Blake forces the words out of her throat, but doesn't dare to offer her hand. The veteran is still measuring her.

-"Dis one you lent a hand?"

The question leaves an uncomfortable silence floating around, Blake tenses. That was a painfully obvious insinuation. What did it imply? Was simple small talk? Did he just mock her partner? If he dared to disrespect Yang… She's about to reach for her weapon when the blonde takes her left to the back of her head and let's out a heartfelt laugh.

-"As expected, count on the old man to say things as they are! Damn, old man, you're sharp!" -As if she were deceiving anyone with that long-sleeved leather jacket…- "Yup, I had some words with her ex, the guy doesn't know when to give up!"

Then she eyes the faunus and puts a generous amount of lien on the bar with an exaggerated move.

-"But enough 'bout me! The girl asked about the sign, why don't ya get something warm for us and tell her the tale? S'not like you have any more clients today…"

Blake recognises something in the scoff of the old man. The fake annoyance of an veteran about to tell his favourite story.

It was a night dark like a beowolf's maw, and I have seen some dark nights in my time, but no one as creepy as this one. We were supposedly entering a new era, all optimism and possibilities, as the Great War had finally ended. But for us, the guys of the breach, those were still bad times. The locals had been at odds with us for longer than our seniors cared to keep track of. Accusing us of insulting their traditions or soiling their women, there was always a good excuse for them to find trouble. It wasn't usually too bad, mind you, but mix two groups of testosterone-filled men with the tensions of a war and conflicts of authority? You can bet it got ugly for time to time, and we usually didn't bother playing nice with each other.

Case is, that night one of them came running you our gates. Oh, boy! We almost shot him down, thinking it was an attack. He was really scared of something and, when we stopped him, could only blabber about being marked and asking us to save him.

"Damn locals!" We thought "They hate us for trampling over their stupid sacred superstitions and shit, but as soon as the superstition becomes trouble, they come crying to us."

We were all up to close the gates with him outside, but our commander had recently scolded us all, saying that the end of the war meant we had to play nice, so we let him in, teasing him juuust a little bit. I remember feeling a bit disappointed when he didn't retort.

Case is, we laughed at the whole thing and went back to guard the gates. Everything seemed perfectly normal for a while. There was some specially nerve-wracking howls in the dark, but that was about everything, until the screams started.

We rushed inside to watch a scenery of hell. The most savage of Grimm I have ever seen was rampaging through our camp, rippin throats and biting people down. It kinda looked like a giant wolf, but a beowolf would look like a harmless puppy around this fierce beast. And it was hella hard to see. While his head and white mask were clearly visible, some sort of black mist obscured the rest of it's body, making it seem like it melted with the night.

That's when my partner, showing more guts than I'll ever have, took aim and got ready to shoot. I was too scared by that… monster to act, and simply stared the scene. That's why I could see the other figure.

Tall, white humanoid covered in white wool, stepping graciously towards us. She… and you can be sure that thing was a 'she', kinda looked like a grimm, with a black mask over her white fur. Like those odd snakes you guys have in Vale. Her stylized body had an inhuman elegance that was breathtaking. And she… wielded a bow.

I didn't had time to warn my partner before an arrow claimed his life. And I… Kids, I have seen scary shit later in my life, but nothing comes even close to how this two things culled everything that opposed them. Curious enough, me and another boy, who had fainted, were completely ignored, while our battle-hardened seniors died trying to stand up to them.

Afterwards, no one believed my story. Since the other survivor were unconscious, I was the only one there capable of telling what I saw. I'm sure the higher-up would've been willing to accept a new kind of Grimm, even if their carnage was too wide for just a couple of them. They'll probably have frowned upon my tale about one of them using a weapon, but you never know with the Grimm. Problem was when I told them about what happened last. Because, believe me or not, those monsters talked!

-"They know we'll come."

Said a deep and ferocious voice I can only hope came from the black one.

-"Yet they are never prepared."

Answered another voice, melodious and calm.

That's when they accused me of… ugly things, and decided to ignore my testimony.

-"Come on, old man" -Yang pokes as he feigns to stop talking- "Tell her about the tale"

-"What tale?"

Well, I couldn't just let it go like that, so I went to find the locals. They were bound to know something about that thing, since I was sure it was that one of them who attracted it. And sure they knew. Everybody I asked, avoided me like the pest as soon as news of my close-call spred. Only an old woman talked to me, and told me a tale about a lamb and a wolf, who pass the idle nights observing the stars.

-"Lamb, tell me a story."

Would the wolf say.

-"There was once a pale man with dark hair who was very lonely."

Would the Lamb start, only to be interrupted again and again by the curious Wolf.

-"Why was it lonely?"

-"All things must meet this man, so they shunned him."

-"Did he chase them all?"

-"He took an axe and split himself in two right down the middle."

-"So he would always have a friend?"

-"So he would always have a friend."

That's all the old woman told me, and that's all I know. But I could never forget that story. So when I opened my Inn, it seemed like a fitting name

-"Again with that story, gramps?" -As soon as he ends the tale, a disrespectful male voice interrupts him- "You will bore your… Wha!? Team RWBY?"

Yang and Blake turn around to face a big young man with surprise painted all over his face. Coldness seemed to quickly fill the room as they recognised him.

-"Cardin."

There we go! Someone could accuse me of crossovering, but I promise that's not the intention. Hopefully anyone who knows the true nature of the lamb and the wolf will admit they fit surprisingly well in Remnant. They aren't intended to play any role anyways, just an odd story that the old man likes to tell. If this were to become a major story somehow, that statement could be revised tho, but as things stand now...

Heck, I plan on finishing this story in another 4-6 chapters or so. It's kind of a race against Roster Teeth official version.

Well, as I mentioned in the foreword, I'm about to get into some busyness... A planned week holidays suddenly overlaps with a work offer in another country, so... yeah, busy. Hopefully I'll continue posting soon. Usually travels are a good source of inspiration.

With that, bids farewell:

-Planeshunter

PD: I'm sure my spelling is not up to my usual standards (not that it means much, heh), I'm really, really sorry. Usually I do a last revision before posting, but my train departs in less than an hour and I still have to get there! EDIT: dear me, thank got I found a while to revise it after all. I didn't expect my spelling to be THAT horrible. It should now be down to it's regular horribleness. My apologies.