A/N: Inspired by other great RWBY FanFiction works, namely Winds of War by Arieko, The White Rose of Vermillion by Kuribayashi, Through Her Eyes by Peroth, and Gladiator by DevilRed03.

This story takes it time, but I hope it's a journey you come to enjoy as we sometimes run, sometimes walk, sometimes meander our way along.

This is my first fic, so thank you so much for dropping by to check it out. ^_^

EDITED 12/27/2019

Word Count: 3,458

Chapter 1 — The Past and Present

It was a relatively warm, early autumn afternoon. The riverside was quiet with no predators to be seen, so the water's surface was teeming with various waterfowl—some peacefully floating along and minding their own business, while others foraged for food or groomed their feathers. Swans were rare this far up the river, but ducks and the occasional geese were common enough, especially during the migratory seasons. Unfortunately, they were not as safe as they believed. Their only warning was a strange whirring-whoosh sound. Something flew out from the treeline and struck one of their number hard and fast. The water's surface exploded into a flurry of panicked wings and feathers as every bird in the area tried to take flight. Not all of them were fast enough, however, for another two of their companions were knocked out of the air before the rest of them managed their escape.

As the last few birds flapped out of reach, a slender, almost dainty figure stepped out of the trees. Had anyone been watching the girl—a young woman really—they would have been surprised to see her with her hood down for everyone who lived in Patch knew the girl never ventured into public without it, not since what had happened nearly six years ago. In fact, the people of Patch would be surprised to see her at all. She rarely visited the village for any reason and if she did, it was only in the shadow her far more noticable older sister or scruffy uncle. While the people of Patch might not see the girl very often, they all remembered her name—some out of guilt while others out of shock. Her name was Ruby Rose.

Any villager who saw her now would be shocked to see how well she'd grown. Her face hadn't quite shed the roundness of adolescence, but the rest of her figure had filled out quite modestly, though most would guess she still had a little more growing to do. She would never share her sister's much bustier figure, but she was lovely all the same. However, what would have drawn most eyes to her was not her figure but her hair and eyes. Her hair was dark only to gain a crimson tinge at the tips as though each strand had been steeped in rose petals, causing her fair skin to look even paler than it was and giving the girl a sense of fragility that belied her well-worn, masculine hunting attire. Her eyes were just as unusual. They were not merely grey, but the silver of polished metal.

If an observer managed to get past her unique hair and eyes, only then would they notice that the girl wasn't human. With her hood down, it was obvious that she had a pair of pointed, darkly furred wolf ears sitting atop her head. If the girl had done away with her hooded cloak entirely, most would also notice she had a beautiful, richly furred tail as well. No, Ruby Rose was not human; she was a wolf Faunus and by all accounts, the spitting image of her mother, the late Summer Rose.

No one quite remembered where the Faunus came from, but it was generally agreed that they had been around as long as humans if not longer. The Faunus outwardly resembled humans except for several key differences. One, every Faunus had at least one visible animal trait or skill, be they a pair of antlers or a tail. The rarest of Faunus might have more than one visible trait, but they were the exception rather than the norm. Otherwise, all Faunus had superior night vision, hearing, and smell when compared to the average human. Some Faunus were even blessed with greater agility or strength, depending on what animal they shared their traits with.

In the Ruby's case, her wolf Faunus traits granted her far greater stamina than most people she knew, which gave her an edge in hunting. She could jog for hours without tiring, allowing her to travel beyond the areas used by the other handful of villagers who supplemented their income through hunting. In short, she didn't have to compete with the others to find good places to set fish traps or animal snares because unless they were willing to camp outside the relative safety of the village palisades, they were limited to the distance they could travel out and back again in a day. It was one of the few things Ruby was truly proud of. While other hunters might go days without having anything to show for their efforts, Ruby always managed to bring something back—usually several somethings, whether through hunting, snares, traps, or foraging. It meant she had to spend quite a bit of lien on ice Dust to keep the meat fresh before her sister, Yang, could bring it to the village to be sold (assuming she didn't use it to make jerky, of course), but it allowed she and her sister to eke out a fairly steady income with enough surplus that they could afford to eat meat a little more often than she knew others did.

Ruby put away the sling she had used to hunt the waterfowl with, stripped off her cloak, gloves, and boots, and rolled up the legs of her trousers as high as they would go. As always, seeing the myriad of scars scattered up and down her pale skin brought storm clouds to her silver eyes and a grimace to her mouth, but she gave herself a shake before her thoughts dragged her down into the darker recesses of her mind. She forced herself to the present and waded into the river to retrieve the three ducks she had managed to bring down.

One of the birds had died instantly, but the other two were still alive when she reached them. One was in shock from its broken wing, and the other had a broken neck. The girl pulled out her hunting knife and quickly put the poor creatures out of their misery before heading back to shore.

This was why she didn't like using a sling for hunting. She just wasn't as good with a sling as she was with her bow. Sure, she could hit nearly any target, but it was harder to minimize the suffering of her prey. She could hit an animal reliably in the throat, head, or heart with her bow, but doing so with a sling was more a matter of luck than skill. Today however, she hadn't wanted to take the risk of losing her precious arrows to the river. It was much easier to spend a morning down by the riverbend looking for the right sized rocks than to spend days making new arrows after all.

When Ruby reached the shore, she hung each of the birds from a low hanging branch with a couple of rawhide ties to let gravity drain the carcasses of blood. Some hunters would wait until they got home or to market before they started dressing their kills, but Ruby always preferred to do the messy business in the field so that she could stop by the river on the way back to wash up before heading home. As she waited, she fixed her trouser legs, slipped her boots back on, and then rolled up her sleeves, trying her best to ignore the scars that littered those limbs as well.

When each of the birds had been plucked and drained, she deftly began the process of removing the entrails, putting aside the edible parts into a wooden bowl she had pulled out of her knapsack and placing the rest aside to dispose of later. When she was finished, she carefully washed each of the birds and the edible organ meats that she'd put aside, removed as much excess water from them as she could, and slipped them into her special ice Dust-infused sack to keep them fresh on the way home. She then set about to cleaning up the area.

Ruby took the inedible entrails and buried them, using the small shovel she always brought along for times like these. She didn't bother cleaning up all the feathers, but she did sort through the largest of them to see if any of them could be used for fletching. Duck feathers weren't as good as goose or turkey feathers, but she'd manage nonetheless. Anything to save money so that her sister didn't have to work so hard. After packing away what feathers she thought she could use, she went over to where she had bled the birds and overturned the bloodied earth several times before covering it all with fresh dirt.

When the area was as clean as she could make it, Ruby slipped her cloak back over her shoulders, pulled up her hood, and shrugged on her knapsack. She threw the sack with her kills over her shoulder, grabbed her bow and quiver from where she had left them earlier, and began the trek home.

If she hurried, maybe Ruby could have supper ready for her sister when she came home. They had some leftover bread, and she could use the smallest of the ducks she had brought down to make enough stew for tonight and the next morning. Yang would be happy about that. She loved meat, but they'd been eating rather frugally of late in order to save up supplies for winter. But lately, many animals were getting slower and fatter as they prepared for either hibernation or the long journey to warmer lands. That meant hunting had been going especially well, and her sister deserved a surprise treat. The thought brought a small smile to Ruby's face and a spring to her step.

"Unhand me, you lout!"

"Milady, please, be reasonable. Your father has been worried sick about you. He even sent messengers all across the province with orders to see you returned home safely."

The female voice scoffed. "He cares nothing about me. All he cares about is maintaining and furthering his own reputation."

"Be as that may, we have orders, milady. Please do not judge us too harshly for this."

"Don't come any closer!"

"Milady, put that down before someone gets hurt!"

"I will not go back!"

Ruby flinched as the distant argument escalated and the woman suddenly shrieked. A wave of sympathetic fear crashed over her. Her blood ran cold and a shiver shot down her spine. Her stomach roiled as dark memories reached up with icy claws to clench her chest. They tore into the forefront of her mind, ripping through the barriers Ruby used to lock the dark thoughts away. Her nightmares slithered their way into the present and whispered into her ear, their words dripping with hate-filled poison.

"Look at her. She's whining like the filthy little animal she is."

Again, the men's laughter rang jarringly in her ears. No, not again, Ruby thought as the fine autumn afternoon faded from view and was replaced by that cold, dark evening in the forest. She swallowed, hoping the action would bring her back to the present, but it wasn't working. She was fading fast. She tried to breathe, flex her hands, anything—but every muscle in her body had frozen as fear slammed into her and sent her heart racing. She couldn't even whimper or scream. Ever since that night, not a word had crossed her lips.

"You think crying's gonna save you? You're just an animal. No one cares if you disappear." She tried to run again, but he grabbed her tail and yanked her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, leaving her stunned.

Another hand grabbed her roughly by the throat and jerked her up until she hung suspended above the ground. The sour smell of stale alcohol invaded her sensitive nostrils until the hand tightened, cutting off her airway. A voice filled with loathing whispered into her ear as she choked. "It's because your kind exists that my brother is dead, and I hope you die as slowly and painfully. Do you know how you animals killed him? You trapped him in a mine and blew up the entrance. They'll never find the bodies. He was just doing his job, and you animals murdered him for it. I'm gonna enjoy making you suffer just like he did.

"Scream, you little animal. No one's gonna hear you out here. No one's gonna save you."

Ruby jerked and slammed herself into the nearest tree in desperation. She didn't want to relive what came next. She had to relive those moments often enough in her worst nightmares; she didn't want to have to relive them now in the light of day. It worked. The pain radiating from her shoulder grounded her, bringing her back into the present. Sweat and tears burned her eyes as she lost her battle with her stomach. Her meager midday snack of dried rabbit jerky forced its way back up, and she spent a good few minutes vomiting until not even stomach acid came out.

When the nausea had run its course, Ruby dragged herself away from her mess and put her back against a tree. She swiped roughly at her streaming eyes and sniffled hard. She leaned her head back and focused on breathing steadily. With every ounce of will she could still summon, she fought to push away the creeping darkness threatening the edges of her vision. She managed, just barely.

She fumbled with her knapsack with shaking hands and pulled out her canteen. It took her a few tries to remove the cork stopper. She brought the canteen to her quivering lips, took a mouthful, swished the cool water around in her mouth, and spat it out. She did the same with the next mouthful. The third, she swallowed to soothe her burning throat. She drizzled a little bit more of the water onto a handkerchief and wiped down her eyes, nose, and mouth as best she could before packing it all away and forcing herself to her feet.

Her legs trembled as she stood, and she was forced to put a hand against the nearest tree for support. She could feel the uneven roughness of the bark even through her leather gloves. It helped ground her even more. She gave a heavy but voiceless sigh. That had been bad.

She thought she had been getting better. She hadn't had an actual flashback in over a month, but apparently they had only been waiting for her to relax to come roaring back like a monster lying in wait. Tears stung her eyes again, and she ground her teeth in frustration. She hated this. She could be doing just fine—having a good day even—and then suddenly one little thing would send her back into the soul-staining mire of her worst memories. It was so exhausting, too. The nightmares that inevitably followed any flashback were sure to send her bolting awake later that night and unable to fall asleep again until near dawn—if even then.

The flashbacks were arguably even worse. Some days the flashbacks caused all her muscles to seize like today—frozen in fear and unable to breathe. Other times, her flashbacks sent her heart racing and lungs gasping as she was forced to relive the sensations of their knives cutting into her skin and their cruel hands pinning her to the ground. Either way, flashbacks were both physically and emotionally taxing on her, leaving her drained, fatigued, and strained for the rest of the day.

Ruby closed her eyes and swiveled her lupine ears. The voices were coming from the north, towards the road. It was maybe a two or three minute jog if she moved fast. It was times like these Ruby was glad of her Faunus heritage. It was a three-minute trip for her, but she knew it would take a human much longer to traverse the same distance.

Ruby squared her shoulders and resettled her pack so that it rested more comfortably before breaking into a mile eating jog. No one had been there to save her that time in the woods. No matter how loudly she had screamed or how hard she had cried, no one had come. But this time she was here, and she was far from helpless. If some innocent needed help, then there was no way Ruby could stand idly by. She had her bow, she had her sling, and if worst came to worst, she had the sword her Uncle Qrow had given her and trained her to use. He never wanted his niece to be caught somewhere without a means to protect herself ever again; and in his mind, a hunting knife just wasn't good enough—an opinion that her older sister agreed with wholeheartedly.

Personally, Ruby felt safer with it as well. It wasn't huge; her uncle had purposely gotten her the shorter, single-edged, slightly curved blade because it was robust enough for her to cut through vegetation if she had to during her hunting trips, yet it was also short enough to be used in cramped spaces. Considering she spent most of her time in the forest where there were always obstacles here and there, it had been an apt choice. It drove home to the girl that her uncle had put a lot of thought into the gift and truly cared about her safety. The weight of the weapon at her side made her feel as though her uncle was right there with her, silently protecting her.

The silver whistle that she always wore around her neck was similar but instead, she was being protected by Yang. When it became evident that Ruby's voice might not come back for a long time, Yang had gone out and come back with the four-inch, two-holed, metal whistle in hand.

"Ruby, this is a promise," Yang said as she fastened a sturdy, braided leather cord to the little metal ring at the end of the whistle. Her sister wasn't all that good at little things that required a lot of manual dexterity, but she had stubbornly spent a whole evening braiding that cord and an evening several days before that dyeing the tips of each cord a different color. Yang left the middle sections of the leather alone so that the colors wouldn't stand out when Ruby was out and about, but the tips that could be slipped beneath Ruby's tunic or shirt were fair game. Yang had explained it all to her.

"Red for Mom. Black for Uncle Qrow. Yellow for me." Nothing for Dad. Yang was still mad at Dad. They didn't know if he had slipped off that mountain ledge on accident or on purpose, but Yang didn't care. He hadn't been the same after Ruby's mom had left on a Grimm hunt and never came back. It was like a part of him just broke. He started spending more and more time away from the house, leaving his two young daughters to fend for themselves more often than not. Ruby didn't really remember that time, but she had come to realize that maybe the reason Yang stopped caring about Dad was because he had already been gone to her. Whether he was actually alive or not didn't matter because he hadn't been there for them in a long time. It was a thought that made Ruby sad during her more pensive moments.

"All of us love you, Ruby, and we'll always be here for you. Anytime you feel sad or lonely, you can look at this and remember that," Yang told her as she showed off her handiwork. "Or better yet," she said with a confident smirk, "come get me and I'll tell you again and again and again, as many times as you need me to."

Yang slipped the cord around Ruby's neck and watched as Ruby played with it, half in awe at getting such a shiny new toy and half in joy. "I know Uncle Qrow's been on you about talking again, but I don't care about that. Take as long as you need to find your voice and if you never manage to find it again, that's fine, too. It won't change how much we love you. Until then, this can be your voice. If you ever need me, blow that and I'll come running. I promise."

And she'd kept that promise. The warmth of the memory filled Ruby's heart and chased away the last of the chill that always accompanied her flashbacks. She gripped the little whistle as she darted around trees and hopped over whatever other obstacles the forest laid in her path, taking strength from it as she contemplated what was to come.