"It's coming in fast!"
"I've got it, I've got it, get in position!"
"Bring it down and I'll take it down!"
Blake sprang sideways, hopping from tree trunk to tree trunk, trying to ascend as quickly as possible as Yang threw her stance wide, bracing herself for a Nevermore's swooping dive. The creature shrieked, Yang was screaming, but all Blake heard was her own voice, calculating the timing she needed to pull off this technique. It- it wouldn't be- she just had to-
Time snapped forward as the Nevermore swung in, talons extended, inches away from tearing Yang apart, but at the last possible second, Yang discharged her gauntlets… to the side. Both she and the Nevermore feinted, but while the Nevermore's sudden shift upwards to dodge the attack it anticipated put it off of it's footing, Yang's propelled her out of the way, using Ember Celica's kickback to hurl herself over to a tree, acrobatically somersaulting to plant her boots hard on the trunk.
As soon as it realized the deception, though, the Nevermore was already climbing. Its wings were broad and powerful, it merely had to make a mighty flap to try and disrupt Yang with a gust of wind while it rocketed itself back up in midair, but…
It seemed that Blake did have enough time.
She dropped down, Gambol Shroud ready and extended, able to loop its ribbon around the Nevermore's neck as her weight pulled the creature down. It was a strong enough flier to carry her away, but the shock of her appearance caught the Grimm off guard, and in its panic… it was useless. Just as Blake heard the echo of another crack from Ember Celica as Yang now propelled herself upwards at enormous speed!
For a moment, they hung in midair, Blake descending, Yang ascending, both girls meeting the other's eye as they passed one another, time holding still in the moment as the Nevermore realized exactly the situation it was in…
Before Ember Celica connected with its head, the skull giving way with a crunch as the avian Grimm's body was reduced to no more than Grimmstuff, crumpling in midair as both Blake and Yang made their landing, gracefully falling to the forest floor… before the heavy weight of the Nevermore hit the ground with a thump, already disintegrating into so much smoke.
"That's… that's the last of 'em," Yang said, catching her breath as she looked around, as though there might be another Nevermore in the skies. But that was Huntsman work. Real Huntsman work, where you couldn't count on things to ever go by the book or how it was "supposed" to go. But with the three nests cleared, plus the Nevermore, they'd taken out all the main Grimm on the prelim scouting report, and Blake and Yang's on-the-ground investigation confirmed as much: the big threats were cleared out, and all that was left was just lesser, common Grimm. The kind of stuff local militia could handle like pest control.
Job done. Mission complete. And… while it didn't feel that different in terms of what they did every week for Beacon, as Yang shot Blake a cocky grin, they both felt like this was a heck of a lot more real than a field exercise with Dr. Oobleck hanging over their shoulder!
They'd taken on an actual for-real Huntsman mission, right off the Valean Huntsman Authority job boards. Upperclassmen were allowed to take missions, though most students stuck to close range work, patrols and support jobs, all close to the city, considering that was pretty much all the VHA would offer them before they had their full license. But they'd gotten lucky—the job had fallen through thanks to a travel issue, meaning the VHA needed a duo that could handle a few Grimm nests, and, since it was a mission that was now twice overdue, the regional administration was really pressed to make sure the job got done. Even if the bid came from two student Huntresses, all they cared was that Blake and Yang had the minimum experience and qualifications to take the job—and it didn't hurt that, licensed or not, as top-level fourth year Beacon students, they were probably better than whoever had the job originally.
…plus, Yang's uncle had gotten them already registered into the system, and knowing bureaucracy, the fact that they had a personnel file and their direct deposit already set up might have been the real decision maker, but whatever the reason, Yang and Blake had gotten a real job and put one on the board! Blake moved to give her girlfriend a high-five to-
Blake stopped as she saw Yang wince as she took a step from her landing.
"How's your shoulder?" Blake asked, gingerly.
Yang groaned, giving her right arm a test of her flexibility as she rotated it. "It's not that bad," she said, rubbing where the Ursa had bit her, "Could have been a lot worse, but it's making me really aware of my arm and so it's…"
"Annoying?"
"Unless there's a better word for 'total fucking constant bullshit,' yeah," Yang said, curling and uncurling the fingers on her mechanical arm. "Can't believe I let it get one on me."
"Lucky it didn't go for your head," Blake murmured.
Yang flashed her a grin. "That's why he got me on the shoulder—I was trying to bait it into the head chomp to dump a few shells in its mouth. But… old Grimm got tricks, always gotta remember that."
Hearing Yang's self-assurance did help lighten the mood, but Blake wasn't really thinking of that injury when she looked at Yang stretching and massaging her shoulder. Yang's fighting style and Semblance meant she took hits, and so much of their early relationship had been them exasperating each other with their tendency to plunge into things. For Blake, it was her investigation into the White Fang, while for Yang, it was her willingness to stick her right arm right into a Beowulf's mouth to give her a good position to punch it in the gut with her left. But… that was the issue that was really putting Blake off of her game.
She wondered if she'd ever not feel a little guilty when she saw Yang's arm. Yes, it wasn't her fault. She'd spent every day since the Battle of Beacon trying to accept that it wasn't her fault that her psycho ex wanted to kill her. She'd heard it from Ruby, Weiss, Yang herself especially, and even from Headmistress Goodwitch that it wasn't her fault, but even still she saw Yang's arm and felt a little reminder that if she hadn't been there, if she never had feelings for Yang, then Adam would never…
Blake took a breath. Beacon's Kingdom-mandated mental health education was largely a joke done more for liability purposes than anything for their sake, but the ten visits per year to Dr. Sivappu she was entitled to actually had helped her learn some coping strategies, ways to get herself to disengage from her spiral, to open up… and turn to the people she could rely on in her life.
Giving Yang a gentle smile, she reached forward and asked, "Can I?"
Yang gave a nod, and Blake started to massage Yang's shoulder for her. She didn't quite have anything like Jaune's Semblance, or even Ren's level of fine aura control to aid in soothing her pain, but Blake did have nimble fingers, digits that were just as capable of bringing peace and healing as they could pick locks and squeeze a trigger. As Yang sighed in contentment, Blake felt the warmth spread across her cheeks as she tended to her girlfriend.
"You are a wonder…" Yang murmured.
Blake blushed. "Well, I'm not- not Jaune," she said, "But I hope this helps."
Yang chuckled. "Pfft, Jaune's bullshit. He just dumps some aura in and moves on, no bedside manner, while with you, I get a sweet massage from my loving girlfriend, all just because I got bit by an Ursa. I'd take this deal anytime."
Blake smiled, feeling her cheeks get even warmer as she worked her fingers into Yang's shoulder. Team RWBY might not have support specialists the way JNPR had, but taking the time to tend to one another had forged the bond they shared between them. And Blake wouldn't trade that for the world.
"Alright," Yang said at last, "Can't have my girlfriend pamper me all day, I gotta make the call for our Bullhead support and get back to Beacon!"
"How's your scroll's charge?" Blake asked. They had an amplifier for making a long-distance CCT call, but they'd been given a warning that it tended to drain batteries fast.
"Don't worry, I had it off since last night to conserve my charge," Yang said, booting up her scroll and plugging it into the amplifier. "And before you ask, yes, I disabled all my games before-"
"They don't have any reason to be tracking your real time location!" Blake playfully lectured as she grabbed her water bottle from her pack. She had earned a treat, both in a refreshing drink of water and giving a lecture about responsible digital citizenship.
"Yes, yes, I know, I…"
Blake's ears twitched as Yang's voice trailed off.
"Oh shit…"
Blake turned. She knew that tone of voice, knew when Yang's devil-may-care persona had been punctured, and right now, something not good was on her scroll.
"What is it?"
"Missed calls," Yang said, "A lot of them. From Ruby."
"Oh no…"
The words couldn't capture the creeping dread Blake now felt rising up in her. Yang scrolled through her messages and from the way she gripped the phone, it couldn't be good. A thought confirmed as Yang muttered, "Oh that can't be…"
She suddenly hit the call button and Blake moved in close to get in view as the scroll started to ring. They were both holding their breath, something Blake only realized as the screen flashed black, showing their reflection, and then-
"Yang!" Ruby said as soon as her visibly-frazzled face showed up on the screen, "Thank Dust you got my messages-"
"They canceled our Bullhead?" Yang asked incredulously as Blake felt the situation hit her square in the gut, "How- they can do that?"
"I've been trying to call you all day," Ruby said, "Your pickup Bullhead got requisitioned for another job, it's not coming."
Blake paused, then looked at Yang who seemed to also be reckoning with the reality that seemed so much more real now that Ruby had said it.
"At all?" Yang weakly asked, "Is there… is there another option we can-"
"I checked with Uncle Qrow to see if he can get something out faster, but he's tied up with… something out in the field. Ms. Goodwitch can only help with the school Bullheads and they're handling first year missions, and Professor Port knows a guy who does freelance, but he's in Mistral. I even called Dad!" Ruby cried, trying to convey just how many avenues she'd exhausted for them before sighing, "But… it seems like you've gotta either wait it out or take the ground route."
Blake shook her head. "How… how did they cancel our pickup?" she asked.
Ruby could only shrug. "I haven't gotten a reason—they only told me because I'm listed as Yang's contact. She'll have a message from the VHA, but… I figure they're not going to say why, just that it's not coming. You, uh, might have train tickets comped and they'll-"
"The train?" Yang cried out in dismay, and while Blake was more stoic in her feelings… they had scheduled this to be a Bullhead pickup because they were in rural Vale, where there was just a bunch of villages around at most. They'd need to walk to the nearest village with a bus service, hope they had a good and regular bus route—not a guarantee—that would take them to the nearest railway station and then take that back to Vale. It could genuinely take days, with nights spent on lumpy cots in spare rooms and a hot shower being more of a fantasy than an expectation, not to mention the wear on Yang's shoulder, all as their entire paycheck for the mission got gnawed away by the expenses of getting back. And Blake had plans to take Yang out on a really good date, something with sushi, sake, and a nice hotel room for the evening…
"Yeah, I'm sorry," Ruby said, obviously not happy being the bearer of bad news, "I've been trying to get through to the VHA to see if they can requisition someone else's Bullhead like they took yours, but they won't do it for a training mission-"
"But it was their mission!" Yang complained.
"But it's registered as a training mission cause you took it through Beacon!" Ruby shot back. Blake winced. There was a hint of, "If you had just let me file the paperwork…" in her voice that brought up the prospect of a sisterly squabble… and it was making Ruby seem a lot more Weiss-like than Blake liked.
She figured she'd cut in. "Okay, okay," she said, "So we can't expect a Bullhead, but how do we get back? Is there a plan or…?"
Ruby sighed. "I've… seriously, I've been looking for any way I can get a flight to you, I even asked Ms. Goodwitch if I could cash in my-"
"Ruby…" Yang groaned, "Just tell us."
Ruby's eyes darted down. Blake prepared herself for the bad news.
"There's a town, not close, but not too far, and there's a bus you can catch a couple miles from… well, wherever your likely location is, I've sketched out a walking path. It'll be a couple miles."
Blake looked to Yang. It wasn't a great situation, but… it was the situation they were in.
"Alright," Blake said, turning back to her Team Leader, "We can do that. Where are we going?"
Ruby nodded. "Closest settlement is just north, take the road-"
"North?" Yang asked incredulously, "That's… Rubes, that's right up into the mountains…"
"It's the closest settlement!" Ruby shot back, "You can go south, but that's going to take you… wait…"
Suddenly, Ruby's voice trailed off, her annoyance melting away in an instant. Blake well knew how volatile emotions could be on RWBY, and she braced herself accordingly that what excited Ruby might not be-
"You guys are right by Valois!" Ruby said, eyes wide and alight with excitement, "That's where Jaune's from, and he's always saying we can stop by anytime if we're in the area! Seriously, how many times has he said it, 'there's always room at the table!' We finally get to take him up on the offer!"
That was true. Valean hospitality was an… uneven cultural expression—Blake got the feeling that if she showed up at the Adel household uninvited, she'd be liable to be shot, likely by Coco—but for Jaune, it was evidently a sacred bond. Rural culture, she supposed, in a world where travelers were rare and long stretches of hostile, often Grimm-infested terrain meant that turning a visitor away might as well be a death sentence, that all added up to a norm where guest rights were very important. Which meant home cooking, a proper bed, embarrassing pictures of Jaune as a kid, and likely a hot shower—Blake suddenly understood the sacred meaning of guest right in this moment because, if it did end with all that, she'd be praising the gods for it.
But Ruby kept talking.
"It's a long walk, but you can-"
"How long?" Yang asked, not feeling any of her sister's sudden enthusiasm. Something Blake felt as well as Ruby pursed her lips and…
"Twenty miles from Armagnac Ridge, so-"
"That means it's fifteen miles from where we are…" Yang groaned in dismay. Blake winced. Jumping up and down for a few hours to fight the Grimm wore her down, five hours of walking was going to leave them in a rough place.
"There's a road," Ruby weakly suggested, "You might be able to hitch a ride…"
It was bad news, no, it was really really sucky news. It was crap news. It was news that made Blake want to go back to her old ways, her White Fang ways and prep a device to mail to VHA headquarters, but…
There was nowhere to vent that anger, here and now, other than at the hard-working, dependable Team Leader who'd put her whole day into trying to bail them out, put the best spin on things, and be the bearer of bad news.
"Thanks for trying, Ruby," Blake mumbled, "I'm… I'm sorry none of this worked out."
Yang nodded grimly. "Yeah, thanks- thanks for giving it a shot. We'll… call you as soon as we're in a better place to make a call."
"M'sorry," Ruby mumbled, "I'm… I'm gonna make sure the VHA hears all about this, I'll get Ms. Goodwitch to sign off on my letter of complaint, I promise!"
It didn't do much—it didn't do anything to improve their situation, but Blake knew that Ruby was really torn up that she couldn't help, and having been under Ruby's leadership for four years, Blake knew how personally she'd be taking this. At the same time…
She really didn't have the emotional bandwidth to spare any sympathy for anyone else at the moment. So she and Yang just mumbled their own, empty words of gratitude and goodbye before Yang hit the "end call" button and they were staring at a black screen waiting a few seconds in the pointless, futile hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd get another call just then from the VHA with a Bullhead en route and an apology bonus.
It didn't happen.
"Well… we'd better get moving, then," Yang said.
Blake sighed. Fifteen miles to go…
It was a long way to Valois.
Blake would give it one thing: the countryside actually was beautiful. She'd always thought some of it was just the tourism industry trying to project soft power for the Kingdom, making the Valean countryside into this idyllic pastoral land of gently rolling hills and sun-dappled meadows, but now that she had trekked a few miles through it, Blake had to give credit where credit was due and face the genuine annoyance at how good it was at making it hard to be in a bad mood. They were walking down a dirt road and they were passing by pastureland that was, undeniably, sun-dappled and bucolic.
It wasn't enough to really fix the issue of a long march to get to town, the sun starting to reach its apex in the sky—though the bright light of the midday sun did give a picturesque cast to the whole thing—as Blake tried not to think of the sun beating down on them, but it did improve things. A little.
They didn't talk much on the walk. Neither of them were in the best of moods and they both had to conserve their strength. Better to sit with their own thoughts rather than risk stepping on each other's nerves. Oh, Blake had her bursts of fury, moments where her mind suddenly conjured up fantasies of confronting whatever jackass administrator had taken their ride home and wrapping her hands around his neck… but they were short bursts of anger, quickly fizzling out as she found no real satisfaction and returning to marching in silence, covering as much ground as they could as quickly as they could.
But… Blake had been in this position before. She knew they'd start talking eventually, either from boredom or their own thoughts running rampant or just Yang's distaste for long silences. And Blake knew Yang well; she knew the mask of cheery optimism hid a tendency for the morbid. There was a side to Yang that only Blake, really, knew. Even Ruby, who meant so much to her sister, didn't really know Yang's inner workings as well as Blake did. They'd all seen Yang slip into depression after her injury, but Blake knew that it wasn't just a reaction to trauma: the depression was always there. And in a silence like this, with her shoulder continuously reminding her of the dull throb of her injury, Blake knew there was a lot that might be turning in Yang's thoughts.
"What's on your mind," Blake said at last, thinking to be the one to take the initiative and break the silence.
"It's- it's nothing," Yang said. Bad sign.
"If it's anything at all," Blake grunted, "We might as well talk. Nothing else to do."
"Is this…" Yang haltingly spoke up, signaling that Blake was going to learn what was turning in her girlfriend's mind, "Are you happy with this?"
Blake's eyes went wide. "Am I- with this? No! I'm very angry about-"
"Not- not the short term," Yang quickly corrected, "This sucks, I hate everything about this, but I mean… doing missions in the field, is this what you want out of life? With… with me?"
Blake blinked. "What- what do you mean with you?" she asked, trying to hide that she was a little freaked by Yang's sudden seriousness. She knew there were some heavy clouds floating over her, but going right for their relationship? "Yang, I do, I really do want to be with you, I-"
"No, no," Yang shook her head, "I mean… what I'm talking about... Ah, this is so hard! This. Doing field missions, fighting Grimm for bounties and slugging it out across the land. Do… are you okay with doing that as your career?"
Blake paused. She almost stopped walking, but… she knew they had a long way to go. It was rare to hear such a tender, quavering note in Yang's voice, not so rare that Blake had never heard her girlfriend speak to her like this, but rare enough that she knew that this was real. Yang wanted the truth, and Blake had to give it.
"I don't know," she said, "I mean… fighting that Nevermore, I felt so alive, just you and me, together, completely in sync and fighting monsters? I… I felt my heart pound as everything came together just in time, and… I really do enjoy this and I especially like it with you."
It was the truth. Maybe having to deal with the VHA's disinterested bureaucracy jacking their ride home was a spectacular low, maybe she didn't exactly enjoy being hundreds of miles away from a good seafood place or anything with a trendy nightlife, and maybe she was starting to accept that she was more at home sleeping indoors than in a tent, but being a Huntress… being a Huntress with Yang… she felt her lips curl up into an involuntary smile as she thought about it. This was rewarding in ways she never thought she might feel before.
"Yeah…" Yang sighed, "I… maybe I'm just being too down, but I know you like it, I'm just not… not sure that's what you're going to want to do for the rest of your life."
"I am a Huntress," Blake pushed back, "Once I graduate, I'll have the title, the duties, and everything else that comes with it."
Yang was quiet for a moment. "I… I know that," she said, "All of us, all of Team RWBY, we'll graduate and be set up for careers fighting the Grimm, taking missions like this, saving the day, and I… it's what I've wanted to do since I was a kid, the only thing I can really think of doing. But you're not… like that, Blake. You're a great Huntress, I'm so glad you've always had my back, but you… you want bigger things than this in your life."
"Yang…" Blake said, trying her best to be sympathetic and understanding while still having to walk several more miles, "Yang, you know I love the action and the-"
"But you can do so much more!" Yang suddenly exploded, "You- Blake, I love you so much because I- I see everything you're so good at and so passionate about, and if you're spending your time in the field doing this, hunting Grimm like- like a knucklehead like me's doing, you're not going to be able to do that. Walking this road, me, that makes sense, this is the life I can see for me, but you… you? You should be in the city, should be… fighting for Faunus equality and- and running for office! You should be on the global stage fighting injustice because- because you'd be so good at it and I want you to be everything you want to be! Everything you could be!"
Blake wasn't sure what to make of this sudden turn, especially because the both of them were wrestling with even more walking ahead of them. It wasn't a good time for a conversation, but Blake knew Yang—she wasn't one to sit with her feelings. And more so…
She kind of had a point.
"We can make it work," Blake said in reply, "I… Huntress work is good experience for being an organizer. We'll spend a few years together going on adventures and… and we can cross that bridge when we get to it, we don't have to talk about this now."
She meant it in two meanings, but she could see Yang shaking her head and making it clear that they wouldn't be putting this off.
"I just feel like… this mission made me realize, this is the last year where everything's in a neat little box. Where I've got everything just how I like it, but…" that quaver came back to her voice as she said, "it's going to change. Graduation, we're- we're all being pulled in different directions and I don't know… I don't know how things are going to change. When I first came to Beacon, I thought I wanted to cut ties and be my own woman, but now I'm looking at the future and I'm just terrified of having to say goodbye!"
"Yang, we- we have time!" Blake cried, "If you're worried about the future, we can cross that-"
"Do we?"
This time, Blake did stop. There were things Huntsmen didn't talk about because Huntsmen didn't think about those things. And Yang broached the subject just about as bluntly as it had been brought up since… since the Battle of Beacon.
"I'm… I'm thinking a lot about my parents," Yang mumbled, "And not just my mom, but my… my real mom, Summer, she didn't… this is dangerous work…"
Yang flexed her mechanical arm, punctuating her meaning.
"And I'm just thinking… there's so much I want to do, so much I want to do with you, but I can't stop thinking that we have to start choosing, figuring out what we… Blake, do- do we want to have kids?"
The silence hit them both, even the birds seemed to stop chirping as Yang broached that subject.
It was an emotional talk. It was a heavy talk. It was the worst possible time for the two of them to get interrupted.
But Blake's ears twitched as she heard a sound coming up the road from behind them and hell, they might be going through something right now but she knew damn well they didn't feel like walking!
Yang stopped, blinking the water from her eyes as she snapped back into action with a nod. She'd seen the twitch; she knew what it meant.
"Car," Blake said, jabbing a finger behind them, "Coming up soon, loud, think it's… old farm truck or something."
"Got it," Yang said, undoing two buttons of her blouse and sticking her thumb out, "Get out of sight, truck's more likely to stop for one person than two, and once they've stopped, they won't turn away two."
Blake nodded, darting backwards into the woods to watch from concealment, seeing as… yes, a well-used, rusty green truck came bounding down the road. It was a beater, with a wooden frame and chicken wire looped together to let it stack more boxes in the bed. Yang had her brightest smile on, looking as harmless and ditzy as she could, trying to seem like a student backpacker and not like her pack was carrying her high yield dust ammunition. It was a good gambit, but at the same time, it did not seem like it was the kind of truck to stop for hitchhikers, flying down the road like that, but Blake didn't give up hope… largely because she much preferred keeping her mind on this matter than what they'd been discussing immediately before.
Beacon had been an oasis of stability—yes, it was part of the most emotionally turbulent year of her life—but going from being a teenage runaway White Fang member to living in a permanent location in an environment that was emotionally supportive as she figured her stuff out… that was night and day. And once everything with Torchwick passed in that insane first year, Blake got to be basically a normal student. And just like Yang said… that was ending. The world of midterms and study sessions and terrible cafeteria food and mooching off of JNPR… all that stability was coming to a-
THE TRUCK WAS SLOWING DOWN!
Blake's heart leapt in her chest, her emotions wildly swinging from her dour thoughts to the fear of daring to hope as her feet reminded her how badly they didn't want to walk anymore. But the truck stopped, stopped for Yang who sauntered up to the cab with all her charms on display. If the truck was willing to stop in the first place, there was no way they wouldn't offer her a ride. Blake made her appearance from the woods, hoping that social pressure would force the driver to accept that he had two hitchhikers instead of just one, but…
It seemed like Blake's appearance didn't even get a flinch out of him. He was a crusty old man, dressed in well-worn farmer's clothes, heavy on denim and faded by the sun, a weather-beaten wide-brimmed hat on his head as he nodded to what Yang was saying.
"Arc family?" he said, a thick rural drawl in his voice, "Yeah, I know'em, you can ride in the back if you don't bother my chickens."
He jutted his thumb behind him, and while Blake would have preferred to sit in the cab, she… didn't exactly relish the opportunity to clear out all the stuff beside the man. Why did a farmer have so many papers in his truck? Old forms and… newspapers and who knew what else. But more importantly, much, much more importantly, the prospect of sitting down was really speaking to her tired, treacherous feet at the moment.
"Sounds good to us," she said, "Thank you for the-"
"Just don't bother my chickens!" the man said, "They're good birds, good egg layers, and they might cost me my patience more'n half the time and I know I've put lien into some of 'em I won't ever be getting back, but that's the life of a farmer! You don't know how much each individual bird's gonna bring you, you've gotta think in aggregate, but you can't treat even one of them off, cause then you get careless and then you start losing birds. And I can't be losing birds, not now, not when the season's coming up, and if I don't have my eggmoney, I don't have the scratch for covering my…"
"He's going to keep talking," Yang whispered in Blake's ear, "Best just get in the back."
Indeed, he did keep talking. Blake assumed he kept talking about his chickens even as they were driving, though she couldn't tell because… well, she was surrounded by crate upon crate of squawking, scratching, pecking birds. On a bumpy, country road. It wasn't the best ride, but it sure beat walking, and she'd give it that.
But it also meant that Blake and Yang couldn't really talk, leaving their conversation sitting in an awkwardly unfinished space. It certainly wasn't the kind of topic Blake wanted to discuss by shouting over the noise of the chickens all around them or the wind rushing past them. All she could do was offer Yang a sympathetic look and try and take her hand in hers…
Before a feathery little bastard thought Blake's fingers was a worm or something and just went nuts, bawking and jabbing at the chicken wire it was kept cooped up in until Blake pulled her hand back. Blake just reminded herself that they were going some place where they'd get a room and, if they were lucky, dinner. Might even be able to get a ride to a train station from there too. So even if there were some real emotional stormclouds on the horizon, she could still… she could focus on the positives.
Whatever she and Yang would have to talk out… they'd have to handle it later. When there were fewer birds around.
Thanks to Renarde for feedback on this work!