"We should get going, then. Tis… yon. Surely."

"Surely."

'GAH— my— my lip! Thou hast—'

'You kissed me!'

'Bitest thee my damn-ed lip!'

'You kissed me!'

Ruby straightened out her cassock and pushed her hair back, wobbling on her feet. She picked up her shortsword, flicking the dial to set it into disc-form as she set it on her lower back.

Weiss adjusted her sleeves and patted down her skirt. She cleared her throat. "Come along, then. Beast. Heathen. Neme—"

"Shut up."

'Nay! I… twas not so. I have siphoned thy soul. Verily.'

'You…'

'That is all. Cease thy gaze.'

'You kissed me.'

Ruby buckled forward onto her new (dear god, why) partner.

Weiss shrugged her off. "Keep thy feet beneath thee, Florabel. Cease thy stumblesome gait."

"I have anemia, asshole."

"A paltry excuse."

'Carest not that I suck the very marrow of thy being? Art thou unwell?'

'...'

'Florabel? Whyfor silence? Art thou strick— mmf!'

"Why aren't you fighting me?"

Weiss scoffed. "I am not so bereft as to strike my nemesis half-dead. Whencefrom cometh glory without game?"

Ruby buckled again, landing fully on her face and nearly falling into the dark until Weiss yanked her up (owowowow) by the stiff collar of her cassock. She set Ruby up on her talons (which were still pretty drenched in Weiss blood, from wounds that were miraculously nonexistent save for the holes in her shirt) and then (wait) dragged Ruby's arm (what?) over her shoulders (what the hell?) to support her weak steps. "W-Weiss?"

"Speaketh not," Weiss commanded, her gaze firmly set forward. "Thy bloodless brain playeth tricks. I would never do this, just as thee would never…"

'Mmf! M— mm…'

"I would never… yeah. We would never… do… anything."

'W— wait! Thou hath— kissest me!'

'You kissed back!'

'Nay! Nay, I— thou'rt— thou—'

'You kissed a Faunus! An atheist Faunus! Ha! Hahaha! Haha— oh!'

"Aye. Never. Nothing. And in such 'stance that it hath—"

"Which it hathn't. Hasn't."

"Aye— it hasn't— hathn't— hath not— but…"

"Even if it did…"

'Ack, you— you beast! Too high!'

'Shut up, Fourth.'

'Commandeth me not, you fowl— F-Flora—'

"Twould be a fluke."

"Big fluke. Yeah."

'God, dude, it's not that hard.'

'C-cease! Enumerate the cassocks thou hast undone, eh?'

'It's just friggin' buttons.'

'There!'

'Don't celebra-a-oh—'

Weiss stopped suddenly, making Ruby fall almost completely off her new (ugh) partner's support. Weiss held her up with a none-too-gentle hand to her diaphragm. Ruby wheezed at the impact.

"Quiet, cock," Weiss said, hushed and panicked. "I heard something."

Ruby couldn't keep herself from snorting. The humor of a casual 'cock' was a lot more potent than her anger at being called one, especially with the frequency as of late. "You know that means 'penis' now, right? More than rooster, at least."

Weiss opened her mouth with another chastisement— probably a repeat of her last statement— before she set her jaw forward, instead saying, "Well, maybe thou art a penis, judging by thy haste to—"

"Didn't yousay there's a Grimm, or something?" Ruby accused, reddening immediately. "Shut up."

Now Weiss snorted. "A victory with words is victory still."

Ruby pushed herself off the other girl, getting a glare as she took the crimson disc of her weapon in hand. Weiss raised a brow at her before unsheathing a simple arming sword from the bougie white belt around her skirt. Ruby noticed that it was remarkably pommel-less, though, which was… weird. Perhaps she'd tried ending one too many opponents rightly and lost it.

Noticing Ruby's curious look, Weiss patted the satchel that was also on her belt, which answered nothing and only made her partner more confused. Though that seemed to be the goal, judging by the smirk on Weiss'... lips…

Ruby's eye twitched. She felt like she should be ticcing— either trying to caw or trying to scrape the ground with her talons— but the lack of real nervous desire was uncanny.

'I can't believe I just did that— and with a Fourth Archivist… oh god, you're a Fourth Archivist… what the hell did I just do.'

' 'st done nothing.'

'What're you… oh. Oh. Y-yeah. Okay. Yeah.'

'Aye.'

"Pay attention, Florabel," Weiss commanded, snapping Ruby into reality. Still, petulant as she felt towards the Fourth Archivist, Ruby shot her a glare.

For all her sternness, the hypocrite Weiss had a cute— NOT CUTE FOURTH ARCHIVIST NOT CUTE FOURTH ARCHIVIST NOT CUTE— pink dusting to her awful, disgusting, punchable cheeks. Ruby imagined hitting her a bunch. It helped somewhat.

Sticks cracked nearby, followed by the viscous, guttural rumble of a creature that wasn't trying to hide anymore. It emerged between two trees, clutching them as it squeezed through, its necrosis-black and infection-red fingers trailing something like blood and ink on the bark. The reek of rotting murder followed it, along with a cold, hungry breeze that supped the strength from Ruby's bones, making her wobble and kneel.

"Rise, Florabel," Weiss commanded in a hiss, picking Ruby up by the arm. "Thou wilt not leave me to fight alone."

Ruby grit her teeth, a scathing retort behind them, but let it go with one sharp nod.

The creature— a Grimm, one of the solitary stalker-types they classified as Wendigo— forced the desiccated skull of its cervine head through the tree-flanked space, its horns briefly bowing against the trunks before cracking, snapping, then breaking off with a spurt of black-red from their bony stumps. The Grimm stumbled the rest of the way between the two trees, each step bringing a sound of twisting, snapping bone and bursting flesh. The fountainous gouts of not-blood from its shattered horns suddenly stilled in the air, congealed, and shed meaty strips like velvet, revealing a horrible new crown of bone beneath. Its skeletal jaw, dripping black and red, decorated with what could be dangling strips of what were once lips, unhinged with an awful grind of bone-on-bone.

Ruby braced for a scream. Weiss tensed.

The Wendigo did not scream. It simply leaned forward, its sickle-clawed hands dangling like grotesque pendulums, and groaned. It groaned a lament for its hunger, it groaned a lament for its solitude, it groaned a lament for its insatiable lust. The sound rattled Ruby's teeth.

Ruby's stomach twisted at the vile assault upon her senses. "W-Weiss?"

She looked over at Weiss, only to find the psycho grinning. "Art thou so excited as I?" she asked breathily. "Fight well, Florabel, and do not disappoint me, lest my blade find retribution 'twixt thine shoulder blades."

"Weiss," Ruby groaned, clutching her pounding head. "I'm gonna pass out. We need to go."

Weiss looked at her as if Ruby had revealed some awful secret (which they had none of between the two of them, absolutely not a one). "Thou wouldst not dare."

"I'm, uh," Ruby tried to straighten, but that only made the headrush worse. "Yep. I'm daring. Oh crap."

The Wendigo took more shambling, cracking steps towards them, dragging its jagged hooves in the loam.

"Florabel—"

Ruby's legs shook out from under her and she fell to her knees. "Sh-shoot, okay, uh, Weiss!"

"Get to thine feet—"

"Can't," Ruby announced, panting as she tried to grip consciousness tight. "Really can't. The thing— the soul thing— what you did, take some and kill this thing. I'll… I'll probably wake up soon. I usually don't black out too long. Oh, god… too many words at once… oh… crap…"

Ruby awoke to the feeling of bumping, jostling, and she immediately sprung into action— she tried to, at least, but quickly realized she was slung over Weiss' shoulder as her partner ran in a dead sprint. This had the unfortunate side effect of pinning Ruby's sword arm, along with the more-unfortunate side effect of having front-row seats to view their pursuer.

The Wendigo's every step was a lurch or a shamble, its own sprint more like one perpetual stumble that never fully took it to the ground, and every moment brought a loud clack of snapping bones. It struck trees, cracking its ribby torso halfway open, ripping an arm off, obliterating half of its head, but the lost pieces reassembled before its next step even hit the ground.

"Weiss?" Ruby called, her voice creaking out.

"Cease thy jabbering, heathen! I am concentrating!"

"It's gaining on you," Ruby warned.

"Twould not be if I dumped mine useless nout of a partner!"

An apology dared to rise in Ruby's throat, but she eliminated it with extreme prejudice. "You were supposed to fight it!"

"Tis a Wendigo, thou featherbrained twat!"

Ruby watched the Grimm trip and fall completely on its face, all its bones and limbs crashing together into a slushy, meaty ball that simply sprang back out as the Wendigo again, fully formed and having lost not an inch of distance. "Didn't you siphon me!" Ruby shouted over the rushing wind.

"Nay!" Weiss squawked obviously.

"Why not!"

"Thou wouldst perish, idiot!" Weiss bit, spitting furiously as some of Ruby's long wrist-feathers got in her mouth. "For god's sake, tuck these in!"

"Oh, as if you care if I live or die!"

"Wha— art thou— of course I care! Thou'rt my nemesis, fool!" Weiss shouted back. "Thy death cometh by my hand alone, and it cometh in the glory of combat, not the squalor! Value thyself, thou Second-heathen beast!"

Ruby looked back at Weiss and blinked. From this angle, she could see the bruise on her partner's neck.

There was a single bump, and Ruby was spontaneously flying. It lasted about a second, of course, her airborne path giving her a perfect view of Weiss tripping over a big, square rock and falling flat on her ghoulish face. Seeing that stoked true joy in her chest, followed by dread. She landed hard, her Aura thankfully refreshed enough to keep her bones unbroken against the impact of the ground, but she got another perfect view of Weiss' face pulling up off the stones, her expression dazed and nose bloody, as the shadow of the Wendigo rose behind her.

Lanky, nasty fingers snaked fully around Weiss' waist, its bony arms popping and grinding as it raised her bodily, bringing Ruby's partner up to its hanging, dripping mouth.

[SAQ8] Describe the unique feeding habits of the tallest non-colossal Grimm:

The tallest non-colossal Grimm is the Wendigo. The Wendigo is a solitary hunter that has been recorded to eat in 'bursts', feeding itself by gorging on multiple prey creatures per day for five to eight days. This usually occurs once a month, but there are rare cases of bimonthly feeding; cases have been recorded of feeding once every two months and twice in one month. The Wendigo tends to avoid larger animals such as bears, cows, wyverns, and wyrms, only hunting those animals when its preferred prey are not present within ten miles of its invocation site. It has been theorized that the Wendigo has some aversion to pain (or a sense of self-preservation), but it will pursue its preferred prey doggedly, even if the preferred prey damages it nearly to death, and even if the preferred prey uses fire dust. Cases have also been recorded of Wendigos chasing preferred prey until they starve to death, but they will only eat their preferred prey while the prey is still alive. Even if it was alive when feeding began, the Wendigo completely loses interest in its preferred prey as soon as the prey dies.

12/12pts Great analysis as usual! - Mr. B

Ruby watched her partner's shirt crimp between the Grimm's rotten teeth. Weiss locked eyes with her. The blazing, glowing blue was desperate. Ruby plotted.

Rubys: 1, as usual; consider renaming category to 'Allies' if Weiss doesn't get eaten. Weapons: 1. Disposition: sweaty, woozy, has a headache. Affiliation: Beacon Hunters' Academy.

Guys: 10, scaled based on the value of 1 Wendigo Grimm. Weapons: however many claws, plus two big horns, plus one Weiss Schnee (could be used as a blunt instrument). Disposition: slavering, hungry, stinky. Affiliation: it's a Grimm.

Predicted winner: nobody; Ruby probably gets killed, Wendigo has to eat Weiss' gangly ass.

Ruby popped out of her Semblance mid-air, still more than a meter away from the Wendigo; that was all the distance she could get with her Aura so thin, but she could work with it. From what she'd seen, the Wendigo didn't drink very much milk.

The disc-form of Ruby's weapon arced straight into the Wendigo's lower mandible, shattering the weak bone into a bad-smelling dust that sprayed over Weiss' whole body, making the girl gag. Ruby held out her arms, catching as much air as she could beneath her feathers and softening her fall enough that she could keep running as soon as her feet hit the ground. The Wendigo made its eerie groan in its chest as a fresh jaw started to sprout from its skull, its free hand lashing out with man-sized bone claws towards the raven Faunus, but Ruby's airy bones made her body just as light as they made her head. She leapt above the sweeping attack with ease, rolling as she landed, one spindly leg shooting out to deftly grab her weapon and toss it into her arms.

Adrenaline coursing, Ruby dove beneath another sweep as she flipped out her whipsword, swinging it out to catch the lanky wrist that she'd just avoided. She held on tight, both arms almost yanked out of their sockets as the Grimm's backswing pulled her up with it and sent her into the air. The hangtime did fucky things to what felt like two whole cups of blood left in her, but she bit her cheeks and managed to straddle the line of consciousness as she uncoiled her blade from the Wendigo's wrist. Swinging it up desperately to catch the Grimm's gory rack of horns before she fell out of range, Ruby pulled herself in, holding all her front talons tight and straight out as she prepared to do the worst thing ever.

With a sound like punching a rotten cantaloupe, all three of Ruby's front talons burrowed into the Grimm's eyeball.

The whole eye collapsed beneath Ruby's claws like a particularly greasy soup, and yeah, worst thing ever, but it had the desired effect. The Wendigo wailed and spasmed, its free hand immediately wrapping Ruby up and trying to pull, but the girl just dug her claws into the mush and bone of the skull's deep interior, the talons of her other foot scrabbling over the Grimm's face until they hooked into a bony nostril. Ruby scraped the goopy insides beneath all her talons, throwing up in her mouth as the thick, unholy smell of necrosis and rotten watermelon stung her sinuses, but it was all she could do with her arms pinned in the Grimm's clutches. She needed Weiss to do her part, now.

For her part, Weiss (surprisingly) didn't disappoint. With the Grimm thrashing wildly and focusing on Ruby, she was able to squirm until her sword-arm came free, and Weiss proceeded to saw through the largest two fingers around her chest. She forced herself out before they could grow back, falling to the ground with a (admittedly graceful, bordering on pretty) landing that Ruby found herself a little awed (shutupshutupshutupshutup) to see. Then, with one swift movement, she darted her free hand into her satchel, extracting a little orange ball that she…

Proceeded to screw on the bottom of her pommel— "Oh my god!" Ruby, an idiot, stupid, unable to help herself, stupid, dumb, squealed. "That is so cool!"

The arming sword awoke with a burning red glow.

"Holy crap!"

Weiss leapt up, catching the hand that she'd just fallen from, using it as a handhold from which she launched herself up into the Wendigo's chest, where she planted the arming sword hilt-deep in the center.

"Weiss! Omigoooood!"

Then she did something to offset the grossest thing Ruby had ever done: hanging from the bone-embedded sword, Weiss swung her free palm around and slammed it right into her brand new pommel, shattering it like sugar glass and drawing the flying particles of fire dust up into the wound, probably coating the blade as dust went to dust, which meant the volatile fire dust was darting straight into—

The Wendigo's chest glowed orange.

Ruby, as if by sheer drive to explode over the coolness of her new partner ('s weapon, because Weiss was still racist, still a prick, and still a Fourth shitheel), was able to jerk herself out of unconsciousness and fight back the urge to immediately fall into the darkness again. She clambered out of the shrub she'd been blasted into, her Aura sparking red as thorns tried to prick her, ignoring the weird sounds of clinking metal and the pain in her face and body. Shambling over to the raised stone— which she realized now was old, smoothed bricks in the shape of a large circular platform— she found her partner without much of a search.

Of course, that wasn't saying much. Weiss was a very pale figure, cut very obviously against grey stone. The intense spray of red blood everywhere also helped.

Ruby fell no fewer than three times during her frantic sprint to her partner, and the fact that she now had a broken leg and a fair few broken ribs was not very helpful. Honestly, it was pretty miraculous that she ended up kneeling beside Weiss at all— she could start making constellations out of all the stars in her vision— but it's not like it mattered. When she did get there, she found Weiss' neck snapped at an almost perfect right angle, her body half-sitting, half-laying against an old stone wall. Blood trailed out of every orifice on her face. Her eyes were wide open. She was still.

The feeling that came over Ruby was… it wasn't sadness. Not even anger. Even the shock faded quickly, because of course she was dead, the idiot had taken a whole explosion point-blank.

Rather, Ruby was filled with envy.

Here Weiss was, broken-necked, wide-eyed, tears of blood weeping out of her eyes, her nostrils, her mouth, even her ears, and she still looked pretty. Plus, the last thing she had done was not only the coolest thing Ruby had ever seen, it also saved her life. Her, someone Weiss was objectively antithetical to. Her nemesis, Ruby, who didn't even want to be here, who didn't even want the thing that Weiss had probably sacrificed a lot for, now including her life. Intentional or not, Weiss died for her nemesis.

But Ruby had to stay. Ruby F. B. Rose had to live with the fact that her partner had died, and her nemesis had saved her. She had to go through the rest of school like that. She had to keep going through school. She still had to be a Huntress— 'Look at her,' everyone would say. 'She went through all that and she's still here. She's so strong. She's true Huntress material. Could you imagine if she left now?'

Ruby reached up, hollow from skin to bone to skin, and tried to scratch the weird pain over her face. She found something— a leaf or a stick, probably, likely something she was allergic to— and pulled it off. No, out, judging by the resistance and the additional pain, but she did land in a shrub. A few lodged branches could be expected, though it was weird how solid this thing was, and how cold it felt. She brought it to eye-level.

It was a little red rectangle, slit hollow in the center, long as her ring finger, about as wide as her thumb. There were little metal bits on it, too, things that would hook and hitch and interlock, now warped and deformed. She knew what it was: Lumbar Plate 6, LP6 for short, the sixth red plate/blade segment after the hilt of her weapon. Evidently, the blast itself had either shattered it wholesale, or it'd ripped so hard off the Wendigo's body that it broke; either way, that particular piece had embedded itself in Ruby's left cheek. Looking down at herself, there were a few other sites where red rectangles jutted out of her cassock, which meant the weapon she'd made was irreparably shattered, and the burning pain was from her Aura trying to force her flesh shut against the intrusions.

That sucked. That really sucked. Looking down, Ruby found Weiss' weapon perfectly intact, albeit jammed through the girl's thigh.

Ruby's eye twitched, but it wasn't the right twitch, so she twitched again. She twitched again. Then again. Again and again, which really hurt because it pulled the split flesh of her cheek, but she couldn't stop herself.

Her throat tickled, too. It needed a sound. A specific sound. One that she'd been called a lot very recently, but only ever by one person. Nobody else had done it, so it was unique, and the sound would fit nice in her throat. So long as she could make it.

"Florabel."

That wasn't quite right.

"Florabel."

That wasn't right, either.

"Flor— Flora… Flor."

No.

"Flora-bell. Flora, Flor, Florabel."

No, no.

"Fl-or."

God. No.

"Flor—"

She wouldn't get it right. She didn't have the sound. She didn't have the scratch, she never did.

"Flora, Flor—"

She hated the sound.

"Flora—"

She wanted it to stop.

"Fl-oor—"

She'd done something before, hadn't she? Hadn't somebody? What'd made it go away?

"Flora Bell."

The lips were bloody, now.

"Fl—"

Oh, well. Not like anyone else is around.

Yep, they were bloody. Still warm, though. At least they were—

"Mm— F— Florabel!"