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Requested By : Polemoduke

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A lot of tiny little towns and villages were scattered along the southernmost coastline of Anima, wherever the land gave them a good enough spot to hang on. Or value to fight for regardless. Cliff edges, mountain passes, vales and fertile, seaside valleys were all defensible enough that the larger towns, usually a few hundred people, could eke out a living from drydocks and shipping. Ship repairs and maintenance, supplies to sell along the coast - some of the larger ones even serviced Mistrali and, on occasion, Atlesian warships patrolling between Anima and Menagerie, ever watchful of the 'island's beasts', as some of the more… Wealthy people in the larger settlements called her people.

Of course, when they left the sea-caverns, they didn't take Blake to one of those.

Andale was a tiny little settlement, barely a dozen small wooden houses nestled along a river, with wide fields of cotton on all sides in a mountain-shaded valley at the end of one of hundreds of branches that made up the Anima range that protected Mistral. Three sides of densely wooded mountains protected them from most directions, and a palisade over the river defended the rest, and an iron grate built into the wall to let most of the river run free. What didn't pooled on either side into something more than a pond, but not quite a lake, where work had depressed the ground. Walkways ringed it on the inside, and fish swam in it, headed up and down the river.

That was her favorite place for… Stereotypical, and annoying, reasons. Less annoying was that all but a handful of the people that lived there, growing the cotton, weaving it into rough fabric and shipping it off for further work, were Faunus. Like her.

And half of them were White Fang.

"Here." Her host, a one-eyed old tiger Faunus with a ropey tail and silver-touched black hair grunted as he set a bowl of pan-fried fish and rice on the table in his little kitchen. He was something approximating an old friend of Adam's, apparently, from when he'd first joined and needed to be taught how to fight. She'd never heard of him, but he'd apparently been one of their front-liners, too, when her parents had lead and the front line always took a hit before swinging back.

She could see the scars on his arms and under his sleeveless shirt when he turned, and knew that part was definitely true.

Her head was still wrapped up, so he spoke quietly while he finished getting dressed, "How are you feeling, lady?"

"Fine…" She sighed, taking her wooden spoon to the food. And trying very hard not to ask for soy. Even the Fang had Soy, at least usually, but… Andale was too poor even for that.

Or most of it was.

"I see that look." The old veteran sighed, taking a seat across from her and groaning as he leaned back against it. "Don't start again."

"I just… Think you all would be better off." She said quietly, "If you stood up."

"And did what?"

"I don't know…" The ones loyal to the Fang were mostly retired veterans, too old or hurt to keep fighting, that had been spirited away to places like this for their twilight years if they didn't want to go to Menagerie and hope for care and space there. They couldn't fight, but… "A union, maybe? All of the cotton pickers and weavers together could make noise."

"And the ferriers would just settle in at Anvil until we were hungry enough to stop." The man grunted quietly, "Believe me, tried that."

"Then-"

"Just relax." Rust grunted, tucking into his own food with a sigh. "People here… We're tired of fighting, and it isn't bad enough of a life to change that. Just rest, heal, and get back out there to do the fighting for us."

"Right…" She sighed, nodding, "Soon, I hope."

"Nancy will be by this evening. After she hits her weaving quota for the day." Rust nodded, "Last we spoke, she said a few more days and you should be right. Our friends will pass nearby in a week, so… Coincides well enough for you to be on your way."

"Okay." She nodded, "Thank you."

"Mhm." The old man grunted and nodded, busy with his food. Swallowing near the last bite, he said, "Long day today. Families are talking about terracing, up the mountain a bit."

"You'll be late then."

"Yeah." He nodded, gesturing at the little sitting area behind her, and the small couch he'd given her to sleep on behind shuttered windows. "Got the old tele-box working for you, too. So… Watch something, pass the time. Alright? Just-"

"Don't go out." She nodded, "I know. This isn't my first hide-away."

"Fair enough." Rust nodded, standing and turning to drop his plate in the tiny sink as he made for the door. "I'll try and be quiet coming in. Get your rest, little lady."

With that, he stepped through the thick, rough wooden door and let it slam shut behind him, pulled by its own weight. The seemingly ever-present dust that clung to the bare wood of the ceiling scattered in the air, filtering through shuttered windows and stirred by a lazily stirring fan. The sink, its porcelain stained by years of filthy hands being washed in them and age, dripped quietly onto the stack of dishes Rust kept assuring her he'd 'get to'. Outside, people chattered and carts trundled over bare earth and rocks as they all went to start their morning work.

And Blake was left, alone, in the dim light the tiny house offered her, without even her own room to retreat to…

Not for the first time, she bit her tongue to avoid complaining - or, worse, missing home.

"It's your own fault, idiot." She hissed under her breath, stabbing the last of her rice and chewing on it angrily enough her head ached. Ignoring it, she murmured, "If you hadn't gotten hurt, didn't have her out looking, you wouldn't be here…"

So, she didn't get to complain.

Instead of focusing on that, she focused on one of the few things she could still do here to help Adam and his group when they came back for her - which was gathering information. She doubted she'd end up with much, of course, but…

It was better than sitting there, and thinking about her looking for her.

Once she'd finished her food, her first move was to grab one of the rough coats Rust had hanging by the door and pull it on, letting it hang loosely off of her and hiding her ears - and bandages - under a too-large cap. Heading outside, she found the settlement's tight roads mostly empty, as she headed towards the little lake, clutching a long, thin knife she'd been using whenever she went. A dozen or so kids, and a few older women, were already there with long, sharp poles and knives like hers.

One of the older women, with pale grey hair and a face covered in wrinkles, looked up as she joined them and smiled, "Hello, Sandy. How are you?"

"Fine…" She murmured, looking at the other kids and muttering. "How is fishing?"

"As well as ever." She chuckled, looking it all over with her dull brown eyes. "Though… You never quite seem to catch anything either."

"I'm not great at it…"

"Practice makes perfect." She bobbed her head, calling out in a rougher voice, aching from speaking so loudly, "Clarence, Dear! Share with Sandy, won't you?"

"Yes'm!" The boy called back, pacing away from his group so he could teach her and she could pretend to pay attention while she plied the boy with questions.

As usual, he didn't know much of anything useful. Or rather, Andale didn't have much of anything useful going on to know about. Just stuff about the mountains and the wood they were look at clearing, and where they planned on terracing if they could get labor for it. None of which would mean anything to them, unless Adam felt like waiting for a few months while he put his fighters to work to get some Lien. Which was something she knew better than to bother asking him for - if he was going to do that sort of work for their people, he'd already be doing it.

And they had plenty of that back home as it was…

But, finally, as the boy got his third tiny little river fish, he let something useful slip, and her ears perked up as she asked, "Wait, you know who's buying the cloth…?"

"Dad does."

"That's… So cool." She faked gushing, cocking her head and asking in her shyest voice, the one she knew from experience would get Clarence to talk, "How?"

"My dad helps set up the carts every week, send's em out." He shrugged, flicking her a look and smirking like he had found a bar of gold to show off. "So, he knows Mister Forrester, the route planner, and Mister Rapids, down in town, pretty well. They talk whenever he runs with the cart on down the river, so…"

"Wow…" She hummed, cocking her head the other way, "He oughta know when they leave, too."

"Yeah, in a couple o' weeks." And, since she knew they sent theirs on Friday and the main town sent their caravan out on Sunday, she could guess when. "Thimble up in Frost bought 'em all up. Something, something, Mistral's building sailships. We can't get 'em all that way, though, so we sell 'em to him, and he sells 'em on. Dunno how that all works, but… Dad says it's worth a lot."

"I bet." She murmured, already thinking - they wanted to build terraces for more crops, and that would take money, so they probably hoped to sell a ton of raw-cloth at bulk to pay for it. Which was… Useful, once they'd already handed the cloth off.

And the Fang had plenty of uses for cloth…

She was about to thank the other kid when one of his fish flopped into the lake and he cursed, dropping onto his stomach to try and catch it. And, when that didn't work, to try and get it out of the water with his spear. Seeing the chance, she slipped away, headed back 'home' while the kid struggled to get the fish without falling into the water, and others yelled at him while he did it.

Back at Rust's, she was careful to hang the coat and hat back up exactly as she'd found them before she grabbed one of a handful of apples Adam had left her when they parted ways and dropped onto the old, worn couch.

So far from Mistral, a lot of television didn't reach them. Just a few old cartoon channels, some drama channels, and the national news service. That last one, at least, ran through the CCT itself, so it was always reliable. A security decision, from what her mom had said, to make sure that no matter what people could find out what was going on. Mostly it was just running streams from government meetings, or very skewed reports about 'the front' against the Fang, but…

Today it was a special report, straight from Atlas - which was enough to get her to sit up a bit straighter.

The bastard, Jacques himself, was giving a press release straight from his manor, apparently. Butlers flanked him to either side, with security she could barely see at the end of his manor's front porch, and his family arranged behind him. Along with…

"A Faunus…?" She murmured, watching the girl who couldn't be much older than her stare at the floor, tail twitching anxiously.

"For months now, we have been searching, on my son's behalf, for his Bond-Soul." The Bastard's words cut into her, drawing her attention from the smaller girl to the man who grabbed her hand and raised it, like a referee holding a prize fighter. Beaming, he bellowed, "She is found! And let every single rabble rouser out there that dares to call me, of all people, racist, come here! Oh, but don't expect to say it to me…"

"Say it to Neon Schnee-Katt," he finished, smiling even more widely as he searched the crowd with his eyes, "my daughter to be!"

Blake wanted to be sick, hearing that…

And knowing that Adam would be furious.

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The file they'd gotten was thick, with nearly five hundred names and pictures taking up the first two thirds or so of it. They'd left out anyone way too old, of course, but even then… The riots in Mistral had been big, apparently. Bigger than Yang thought from the news. From what she'd heard on her Scroll, it had been barely a few hours of maybe a hundred people getting noisy at a protest. But there were so many people in the files, and they'd been screened, as Raven put it, so they probably barely counted for half of what had been there. If that.

"What even happened…" She murmured, skimming the last of the names with pictures to go with.

"Doesn't matter, brat." Raven grunted from the bed across from hers in the dingy room she shared with her dad.

"I'm just thinking out loud…"

"Why?" The woman asked, leaning back against the wall and resting a booted foot on the bed - her dad's bed - and hugging the leg to her chest. "Whatever happened in Mistral was a riot. Who cares how bad or why?"

"Because…" Yang trailed off, unsure but… Thinking. Her instincts told her there was a connection, as she turned off the last picture to the start of pages that were just lists of names. Like the games Ruby played, with profiles for the characters that told you their age, race, those sorts of things. But skimming those didn't offer much - the Bond would only respond to seeing them - so Yang paid the other woman more attention and shrugged. "I dunno, but… My- My instincts tell me that, yeah, it matters."

"Your instincts?"

"Yes…?"

"And how finely honed can a kid's instincts be, exactly?"

"Enough to know that my dad is lying about who you are." She snapped before she could catch herself this time, shooting the woman a look when she realized what she'd said. The dark-haired woman, the same woman that had stood up to Grimm and what she knew were not people that normal people talked down to, looked stunned.

But, more than that, she looked afraid.

"See?" She smiled, "My instincts are good."

"You don't know anything…"

"I know enough." She argued, rubbing her fingers together anxiously. "I just… Can't afford to, you know, deal with that yet. I-I want to, but… Right now, she's more-"

"Bullshit protest turned riot, over bullshit laws." The woman cut her off, voice sounding… Rough. Yang cocked her head, but Raven avoided her gaze, standing and heading over to the window to lean against it, watching the distant ocean. Quietly, she explained, "Mistral recodified laws allowing restaurants, libraries, whatever else to ban people for being Faunus. It went through, in spite of the riots, but… A lot of people got hurt, when the cops cracked down on it. Cops, and military."

"Okay…"

"A lot of people left Mistral when it happened…" She went on, "Mostly Faunus. White Fang especially. The police were rounding people up, so… No choice."

"Oh…" She blinked as she realised what was happening and sat up straighter, "Wait, you… Know who we're looking for. Don't you?"

"Not who." Raven sighed, fishing out her Scroll when it chimed. Turning to her, Yang could swear she looked…

Upset.

But also… Happy, in a way? Yang couldn't really describe it. It was like she was about to cry, trying not to grimace, pissed off, and smiling all at the same second.

"What." She finished, wiping the look off her face, raising the Scroll and waving for Yang to follow. Which she did, grabbing her pack and shoving the folder into it as she stumbled after the woman. While they walked down the hall towards the stairs that lead down to the eating area below, and the exit, Raven explained, "We were hoping we were wrong, which is why we had you looking, but… Well, it looks like you're looking for a Faunus. And not one still in Mistral."

"They could be anywhere, though…"

"You don't…" Raven paused at the door out, into town, and leaned against it, staring at the floor. Still avoiding Yang's gaze, she said, "You don't know who, what, I am, Yang. I have people out looking, too. People all over, wherever Humans can go. Wherever we're… Respected. They haven't found any girls with head injuries that were in Mistral. So either she's hiding really well…"

"Or left the continent."

"Exactly." Raven nodded, "Maybe your instincts are pretty good after all."

"Yeah…"

"Whatever the case, the best place to look for answers regarding White Fang related bullshit is their home base." Raven went on, pushing off and into the road with Yang trailing behind. It was pretty early still, so not a lot of people were out and about up in this part of town. So, she listened to Raven finish, lowly, "Menagerie…"

"That's… Their homeland, right?" She asked, "Where they're from?"

"Vale teach you that?"

"I… Guess, yeah."

"Yeah, well… Don't say that to a Faunus." She sighed, "Whatever the case, I sent Tai to help get a ship I… Acquired in shape and ready. He said it is, so…"

"Off we go?" Yang smiled, the tiniest bit of excitement bubbling up in her that was matched by echoes of anxiety and fear. Quietly, as that spread into her, she couldn't help but ask, "I-Is that even… Allowed? Like, will they let us go there?"

"I'd like to see them stop us from finding…" Raven coughed to clear her throat, and when she spoke again some of the edge had left, and she finished, "Our way there."

"But-"

"I will make them let us stay." Raven snapped hotly as they reached the docks, where the streets were packed by sailors coming and going. Only a few flicked them - or at least, Raven - a look when she said it, but most ignored them as they pushed through. So quietly Yang almost couldn't hear her, the woman added, "I can do that at least…"

"What did you-"

"Hey, firecracker!" Her dad cut her off as she reached the end of a long, wooden dockway and he scooped her up from behind, earning a surprised squawk from her as he spun and followed behind a scoffing Raven up the way. Ignoring her, he asked, "How was your walk with Auntie Rae-Rae, huh?"

"Ugh…" She blushed, embarrassed by the sailors' around her chuckling. "I'm not a kid anymore…"

"Yeah, well," her dad shrugged, "you'll always be my baby girl."

"Uuuuugh!"

"Hey, boss!" A voice from above them called out as they passed by a shallow-floating boat with a wide, grey sail. The girl was dark-skinned and close to her age, dressed in black shorts and a grey vest and leaning on the ship railing with one leg. She spun a worn looking old hat on a finger, and smirked, putting it on along with a deep accent Yang couldn't place, "Lookie, lookie here- I'm the captain now!"

"Shut the fuck up, Vernal!" Raven shot back, climbing the plank up onto the deck and snapping at the others on the deck. "Come on! We're leaving."

Once they were away, Yang made her way to the back of the ship, on top of the little boathouse thing there, and leaned on the railing to watch the town slip away. Waving boredly, she murmured, "See ya, Anvil… Wish me luck."

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