Qrow Branwen sits on a rather large bed, looking at nothing in particular as he clenches his hands tightly before spreading his fingers wide. He repeats the action two more times before he stops.
He is a tall man, standing at six foot-one with pale ivory skin, graying black feathered hair slicked back, and dull red eyes. The man is wearing a gray dress shirt with a long tail, a tattered red cloak, black dress pants and matching dress shoes.
Sighing, Qrow rubs his hands across stubbled jaw before reaching into his back pocket and takes out a silver flask. Opening the top, he takes a quick sip to calm his nerves, after he closes it up and puts it back he takes his scroll out and calls Jupiter Arc.
A part of him hopes she doesn't answer but it's a useless hope.
"Qrow! Did you find him? Is he okay? Please, tell me he's okay?"
The man hates this part of the job, which is why he usually left it to more emotionally capable people but he's the only one here, so he takes a breath, "Jup…" He doesn't even have to finish before the woman on the other side starts screaming.
"No! Qrow, no! Keep looking, he's someone there, he can't have left yet! He couldn't have! And… and… if he's not there that means he's still in the forest and Noah already searched that place top to bottom, so if he's not there and if he's not in the Forest of Orleans then that means… that means…" She sobs, "Qrow, please! Please!"
Qrow closes his eyes, "I searched Saren, top to bottom, he isn't here. I looked through their flight logs and I couldn't find Jaune's name. I talked to every shopkeeper, every clerk, every 'person' who would talk to me and no one has seen the boy." He sighs, "I explored the area between the Forest of Orleans and Saren and nothing. if… if I had to make a guess Jup–"
"NO! My baby is alive! He's alive!"
"Jupiter." Qrow snaps, "Jupiter…" He takes a breath, "He has no Aura, no weapon, no training; if he ran into trouble either from the Grimm or something else he would stand no chance, I'm sorry but Jupiter, he's dead."
The other line fills with sobs, "...please… please… no…"
"I'm sorry for your loss." His voice is low and hollow.
"FUCK YOU, BARNWEN!" The line goes dead.
Qrow pulls the scroll away from his ear and closes it before pocketing it. He takes the flask out again, twists the top open and drains it in one swift gulp. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, he throws the metal container at the wall, cracking it before he flops onto his back, "Stupid fucking, kid."
The weary man sits back up with a sigh and takes a moment to gather his strength before standing up. He walks over to his fallen flask and puts it in his back pocket before he starts packing, it doesn't take him much time before his bag is full.
Soon after he leaves his room, closing the door behind him before he walks down to the lobby, he leaves his key with the clerk before leaving the inn.
Eventually Qrow is outside the settlement and once he's far enough away he transforms, a rather large crow takes his place.
He quickly takes flight and leaves the area behind, his heart impossibly heavy.
Jaune Arc has an almost manic smile as he stares up at the blue sky. For some reason, Preto had left him alone, said he had business and wouldn't be back, he'd hadn't been back for almost two weeks.
The boy had been left all by his lonesome with his only company being the beast within which he didn't really want to converse with.
Not like he had much choice though.
He filled his time training, refining his control of his shifting and even testing the limits of his abilities. Some of his findings were startling; with a swing of his arm he could fell a decently thick tree, his claws and teeth were sharp enough to slice through bone like butter, he could hear his own blood pumping in his veins which was super freaky, and he had night vision.
Which was awesome.
Currently Jaune was practicing moves he had seen in movies and t.v shows.
Standing up, the boy shifts for a moment and he feels his mind cloud but he closes his eyes and imagines Crocea Mors in his hand, his head clears almost immediately but it's a fine line he's walking.
Jaune takes a calming breath and opens his eyes before crouching down, he feels his muscles in his legs strain before he leaps up. With little effort he back flips a full one-eighty degrees and lands on his bare feet.
He crouches down again and leaps back in the air but flips forward, the boy lands unsteadily but manages to keep himself upright. Laughing a little, Jaune leans forward as he crouches and jumps forward, twisting his body as he does before landing, stumbling as he does.
"Gods' this is awesome!"
Jaune flings himself forward, landing on his hands before pushing himself up with his hands and landing back onto his feet.
It's crazy to think about what he's capable of now. It wasn't like Jaune wasn't fit before but he couldn't call himself agile or flexible.
But now, now the boy could almost call himself a gymnast.
Everything came so much easier, took so little effort. It was almost cheating.
Scratch that, it was definitely cheating but Jaune found himself caring little. Not when he could do so much more than he ever thought possible.
Preto was right, he was stuck in his old way of thinking; he needed to adapt.
Wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt, he finds himself calling it a day and walks back into the house. Sitting down, he reaches for the pack of cigarettes Preto had given him along with a lighter, he pulls a stick out and places it between his lips and lits it, taking a deep breath.
He wonders what else he can do. How far he can push himself.
Preto Hele-Nui lays on top of the Arc household in his wolf form. He keeps his hearing sharp, tracking the residents from within.
Surprisingly he learned a few things from his stalking. One; the father had been searching the forest for Jaune and he found himself thankful for the rune stones he laid around the property that kept outsiders from perceiving it, otherwise his young charge would have been found.
Two; one of the sisters who apparently worked at the clinic had examined a body that Preto knew was the victim of the rogue Alpha. She came to the conclusion that a lone wolf with a new strain of rabies had killed her and had alerted the sheriff station about it, sending them on high alert.
It seems like the Alpha had made its move and now he needed to make his before more innocents were killed or turned.
Preferably the former.
Three; the wife had recently received news from a man named Qrow who was helping the couple locate Jaune and had come to the conclusion the boy was dead, leaving the family in shambles.
The man felt somewhat bad for the family of nine but it was for the better. Jaune was no longer human, he had no place with them.
Preto silently promised to take care of the boy in their stead.
The next few days pass slowly. A lesser man would have cut their losses but he was patient. Eventually the house would be empty and he could get what he needed.
"Dad." One of the younger children began, her voice soft and raw, "Can… can we… we…"
"Can we what sweetie?" The father asked softly.
"Jaune really loved the… the arcade and I was wondering if… if…" She started crying and the father started comforting her.
"It's okay, it's okay. I think I know what you're asking, you want to remind yourself of him, right? You want to feel like he's still with you and the best way to do that is to surround yourself in what he loved and Jaune did love his games." The human man takes a fortifying breath, "I think… I think it's a good idea."
The father soon gathers his family and they leave their home, now was his best chance. Waiting to make sure they didn't suddenly come back, when they're no longer in his sight he stands up from his position before he jumps off the roof and lands on the ground.
Preto walks to the door and stands on his hind legs, palming the doorknob with his paw and twists it open. Walking inside he kicks the door close before looking around.
It doesn't take him long to find the sword Jaune respected so much, he transmutes back into his human form and walks over. Grabbing the weapon, he smiles and walks back over to the door.
He cracks the door open and transmutes back into the wolf, using the end of the weapon to swing the door open he runs out, becoming nothing but a blur.
No need to be stealthy, not when something was clearly stolen.
Eventually Preto finds himself in front of his house, transmuting back and quietly walks in. Closing the door behind him, he sets the weapon against the frame of the entrance before walking past a sleeping Jaune and into the kitchen where the two kept their clothes. He reaches for his bag sitting on the dining table, the man quickly gets dressed before turning back around into the living room.
Preto lightly pokes at Jaune's cheek, "Hey, wake up. I got a surprise for you."
The boy groans and twists into the back of the sofa.
The older werewolf rolls his eyes and slaps the boy cheek.
"Ow!" Jaune startled away, sitting up. He glares at Preto before his eyes widen and jumps to his feet, "Preto! Man, I missed you!" He walks around the couch and hugs the man. "Where've you been?!"
Preto chuckles, "Sorry but I came across some information that could help you and I couldn't pass it up."
The boy pulls away, his eyes furrows in confusion, "Help me?"
"Mhm." He gestures to the couch and the two sit back down, "An old friend called me a couple weeks ago and I asked him some tips about how to control shifting, he told me about one technique that I knew could help you, its called an Anchor Object where you use a object of great importance to you as a emotional tether instead of a memory or image."
Jaune nods along before the dots connect, "You don't mean…"
The man nods as he points towards Crocea Mors, the other's jaw drops.
He stands on shaky feet and stumbles towards the family sword, he reaches for it but his hands still, "Pre… preto I ca–"
"Jaune, I understand your hestiance. I get it. This is your family's legacy, the culmination of your noble history, it's hard to feel worthy in the face of that." Preto stands and walks over to the boy, he wraps an arm around his shoulder as they look at the weapon. "But if not you, then who? If not now, then when? Not only that but don't these kinds of things get passed down to the oldest son anyway?"
"I… uh… yeah but–"
"But nothing. Your father denied your right to training, to your dreams, to your birthright, he was never going to do right by you, so you need to do right by yourself. Take the sword, claim what is rightfully yours, gain control and Be.A.Hero."
Jaune swallows, he hands clasps around the handle, he nervously laughs as he does, "I never touched it before, dad never let me." Bringing the sword closer, he holds it in both hands.
It doesn't weigh much, barely anything but it does feel heavy in his hands. With barely a thought he unsheathes Crocea Mors and finds himself studying the dull silver blade.
It's old with little nicks and scratches across the body but Jaune has never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes burn, he can see the light of them reflected in the steel, his wolf howls in glee but Jaune ignores it, all he can focus on is the mighty weapon.
Crocea Mors; The Yellow Death.
His family sword. The weapon used by Nennius Arcenciel in the Great War. A weapon of a Hero.
For a brief moment he swears he can almost see something in the metal of the weapon, golden pale eyes. They stare at him, judging him, finding him worthy.
Worthy of what, he isn't sure.
"Jaune," A palm rests on his shoulder, turning away from the magnificent blade, Jaune turns towards Preto, "I need to tell you something else."