The cool morning wind brushed Philip's face. Wisps of clouds floated in the blue sky, slightly covering the warm Autumn sun. The lush, green forest, the Emerald Forest or something, was just below him; miles beneath the rocky cliff he was standing on. He closed his eyes and smiled, enjoying the smell of rich pine and earthy grass. Even though he didn't choose to come here, the scenery was quite enjoyable.

If only he didn't have to stand on a launch pad.

He opened his eyes and shifted his weight. The springs underneath were ready to jump-scare him at any point. He was alone in the far corner while the rest of his peers were on his right. They all looked cool and mighty sure of themselves, tinkering with their unnecessarily complicated weapons. As for Ozpin and Glynda, they were still addressing them about something.

The tightness around his body got too much. He bounced and readjusted his red harness. But it wasn't helping. He sighed and took out his hammer, removing the discomfort instantly.

"Need more adjustment…" he muttered.

Ozpin continued, "…the first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years…"

Philip yawned and stretched his arms. The breeze blowing against his fur was quite soothing. It'd been a while since he woke up this early. At least he didn't need to worry about breakfast. Or lunch or dinner. He could see himself staying for the whole year if the food remained this consistent.

"…After you've partnered up, make your way to the northern end of the forest." Ozpin sipped his coffee. "You will meet opposition along the way. Do not hesitate to destroy everything in your path...or you will die."

Philip rolled his eyes. How dramatic of him. As if they'd risk losing students like that. Parents wouldn't pay the school fees if their children were dead.

Ozpin's gaze turned towards him. "You will be monitored and graded through the duration of your initiation, but our instructors will not intervene. You will find an abandoned temple at the end of the path containing several relics. Each pair must choose one and return to the top of the cliff. We will regard that item, as well as your standing, and grade you appropriately. Are there any questions?"

The blond man raised his hand. "Yeah, um, sir?"

"Good! Now, take your positions."

Philip chuckled, shaking his head. Clueless people were everywhere. Why did they even find them? He took half a step back, and the ground shook. His weight was gone. His feet weren't touching anything as the wind zoomed past him.

"AHHHH!" He flailed his arms around.

He reached out before realising that grabbing the air was stupid. His heart was trying to escape from his mouth. But soon, panic turned into excitement. If he was going to fall like a wingless sparrow, he might as well enjoy it. He spread out his arms and guffawed. The trees below became larger and larger. He raised his hand, triggering his Semblance. The air around him turned still as if frozen at the spot. He crashed through several trees. The branches swept past him harmlessly until he finally slammed and sank into the grassy ground.

"YEAH!"

His yell scared more birds away. When the forest returned to its peaceful silence, he stopped his Semblance and climbed out of the crater.

"I gotta do this more often." He giggled.

Shockingly, he was surrounded by dense woods: trees that could be hundreds of years old. They cast thick shadows under their overgrown branches. The Grimm were, apparently, lurking in those dark places. Town-destroying, evil, dark creatures that every Huntsman and Huntress had sworn to destroy. As a supposed fellow Huntsman-in-training, that was now his job.

He rubbed his stubble and looked up. The sun was somewhere on his right. He rested his hammer on his shoulder and strolled forward. A light melody escaped his lips. Ozpin didn't mention anything about a time limit. If he could find the relic by the end of the day, it should be good enough.

His nose twitched: a growing smell of decay, the choking stench of corpses.

He grimaced and turned around. Two giant black wolves growled at him from afar. They had white skulls and bones protruding from their backs and limbs. Their large, white claws dug into the earth as they approached him. Their red eyes stared dead at him. One of them stood on its hind legs, towering over him by a few heads.

"Wow, you guys are big." He chuckled shakily.

The giant wolf leapt at him. He yelped, swinging his hammer at it. There was a moment of resistance. Then, nothing. The wolf's head was gone and flew away to somewhere. As he watched the lifeless body disintegrating before him, he grinned. He yelled and charged at the other wolf, swinging his mallet in whatever direction he found convenient. Its claws broke, and it lunged forward with fangs, biting the dirt. Before it could lift its head, Philip had already crushed its skull, splattering pieces of dark flesh everywhere.

He laughed and enjoyed the wind blowing into his face. There was another scent. His grin widened; the fun wasn't over just yet. He dashed towards the source and found a massive black bear. Like those wolves, it had glowing red eyes and a bony-looking mask. It waved its sharp claws around and roared, trying to get rid of the man on top of it. With a hilariously long handle sticking out of its back, the guy held his dear life on the bony spines. With a loud cry, he pulled out his glaive and stabbed the bear repeatedly. Streams of dark mist oozed out from it. It groaned a few times before collapsing. Dead.

As the corpse dissipated, the man pushed himself off the ground. Panting heavily, he brushed his hand against his sweaty black hair and removed the twigs. His brown eyes finally turned towards Philip.

"It's my first time fighting a Ursa," he said breathlessly.

"Oh, so that's what they're called?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "Didn't they teach you in the academy?"

"I'm home-schooled," Philip lied.

"I…see. Well, I guess you haven't found a partner yet." He took another moment to catch his breath and extended his hand with a smile. "I'm Jonathan."

The scent of death was here again.

He shook his hand. "Philip. You come here often?"

Jonathan frowned. Then, his face softened, and he gave Philip a knowing smile.

"Obviously. I like coming here for a walk!"

Philip grinned. "Good. Those wolves are yours then."

"Wolves?"

Philip gestured at the trees behind him. Three black wolves emerged from the shadows. Jonathan tensed up and readied himself.

"Beowolves," he said with gritted teeth.

The Beowolves slowly circled them. Jonathan clenched his glaive while Philip relaxed and brandished his hammer.

"So, you take one and I take two?" Philip asked.

Jonathan switched his glaive into a level-action rifle. "A bit reckless to fight two at the same time, isn't it?"

Philip shrugged. "Not really. Just did that."

"…Fine. I'll support you when I can."

Gunshots rang through the forest. Philp charged at them with his hand forward. A Beowolf swapped at him. Its claws slowed before his Aura shield. He brought his mallet to the side of its torso, sending the deteriorating body flying. The other Beowolf lunged at him from the side. But it fell under a barrage of bullets.

"Are you okay?!" Jonathan sprinted towards him and checked his body.

He shoved him away. "Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"

"A-A Beowolf just hit you. A Beowolf! You don't walk away from that!"

"Clearly, I do." Philip rolled his eyes. "Relax, I'm not an idiot. My Aura protects me from everything."

"Okay, okay... But can you warn me before you do that next time?"

"Sure thing, worrywart. Come on, the North is this way." He patted his head and walked past him.

Jonathan loudly clicked his tongue. But the crunching sound of him stepping on the grass soon appeared behind Philip. A grumble followed suit.

"I'm not a worrywart…"

Author's Notes:

Our first team partners. They're going to get along swimmingly. They might even survive until the end of the series. Probably.

See you next week.