II

Death is like snow. It is sometimes beautiful, sometimes horrible, always cold, and always different. Every time it is experienced the reaction is different for those left behind. One would think that with experience the effect would mellow, that empty chairs at the table and covered caskets would cease to disturb with time. But...

*Slam*

Qrow's glass slammed into the dark wood topping the bar. The rocks, river stones added to cool the now-consumed whiskey without diluting it, clinked against the glass. Qrow's palm hit his forehead as the glass made contact with the wood, and rested there for some time. A clock ticked away in the corner. Qrow straightened, grabbed the bottle next to him, and poured another round.

The bar, an old seaside establishment in the populated area of Patch, was largely abandoned. A single bartender dozed on his feet nearby, ritualistically polishing a small section of cherry wood. When Qrow demanded two rocks glasses and a full bottle of top shelf bourbon the bartender hadn't batted an eye. News of the Aurora's unexpected return had preceded him, and it was common knowledge who never disembarked.

The second glass remained filled and untouched next to Qrow. It was a due to the dead, and a ceremony Qrow had learned long ago, from a family he no longer claimed. Tai's final drink would rest there for the night, until Qrow finished the bottle, and would then be cast into the sea.

Normally the entire tribe would pitch in, share memories of the departed, and drink the bottle together; but now Qrow was a tribe of one. Summer had not spoken since hearing the news. He could not blame her shutting down, he had done the same during the week spent in the return journey. So instead Qrow drank alone, and was more alone than any earlier part of his life.

Gazing into the brown liquid, Qrow heard the rapid beating of wings followed by the clicking of talons on wood. Looking to host left, just beyond Tai's empty chair, stood a Raven. With her wings folded, she pecked at the wood with her beak. Once, twice, three times followed by regarding Qrow with a level gaze from her red eyes.

Qrow turned, pointedly looking away from the corvid.

"Raven." He said, voice like ice.

"Hello Qrow, can I join you?"

In the place of the bird, a young woman say at the bar. Her hair matched the color of the feathers, and color of her irises matched the bird's. In fact, there names were also the same. She looked back at her brother and waited for an answer.

"Why the hell would you care?" Qrow finally responded. Even with a legendary tolerance built on decades of drinking, he slurred his words slightly. A fifth of anything over 80 proof has an effect, and he was halfway through a handle.

Without responding, Raven signaled the bartender, who gave her a glass identical to the other two.

"I remember when you two first met. We had just arrived at Beacon you ran into him without paying attention. Didn't you go through initiation with a black eye?"

"Two of them." Qrow responded, "he laughed a lot when we made eye contact in that Forrest."

"It was lucky, for both of you." Raven shot back. "Say what you will, but he was a great partner."

"Yes, he was. So why did you abandoned him" Qrow said, 'Why did you abandon us?' he

The words cut into Raven. She sat silently, now filled glass in her hand. She stared sightlessly forward. The clock continued to tick, filling the silence.

"Because I am the type who runs away." She finally said, softly. "You know this, you've always known this. When things are perfect, I want nothing more than to be far away."

"And now that things are far from perfect, you want to be close by." Qrow bitterly responded. "Summer may be good, but she's not that good. You know she's in over her head now, and I can't help the way I should." The bitterness was for himself now. It was an admission that the drunk he had become since Raven's first disappearance would severely hinder any attempt at good parenting on his part. "Let me ask you this: do you think you could do a better job?" His knuckles were white around his glass. His face, thunderous in anger, stared his estranged sister down.

"It doesn't matter." Raven said, "Summer wouldn't let me within a mile of the kids anyways.". She sighed, and finished her drink. She poured another, emptying the bottle. "I will be at the funeral tomorrow, watching from the trees. I am starting in a small cabin, not to far from the grave-site, if you want to talk." She looked at Tai's glass, and her voice broke, "can I help you show our friend out?"

Qrow turned, stood up, and grabbed the last full glass. "Sure" he said. It would be wrong, after all, to let his brother go alone.

Two black birds, a crow and a raven, flew over the shores of Patch by the moonlight. The crow carefully clutched a glass filled with whiskey in his talons, the raven carried an Ashe branch. The pair glided over the docks of Patch's small port, and down the Sandy beaches used by tourists in the summer time. They flapped their wings and flew above the salt marshes of it's Southern shore, and cruised above the pebbled beaches on its Eastern side. In time, they crossed to the Island's northern cliffs, where sunlight stays the longest. Upon reaching those white walls that held back the sea, they turned north.

Over salt and foam they flew, until their talons grew heavy and the time arrived. Into the foam fell the Lion's share, and with it fell the best's foundation. The two birds flew on, into the night.