PA18

Neo stood nearby, a disgusted grimace on her face as she kept a respectable distance.

"Okay…" he panted once he was done, staggering to his feet and rubbing a sleeve over his mouth. "Where are we? And why?"

The question was equal parts for Neo, and for himself – since he knew even if she could talk, that she likely wouldn't give him any real answers. In fact, now that he thought about it, maybe it was best she couldn't talk.

Focus Jaune… Right… soft ground, grass – trees. He was in a forest of some kind. One which was covered in darkness, and yet still stood illuminated by the light from the shattered moon. It also smelled… strangely of vom- oh right… never mind.

"What's the point of us sparring here?" He asked of the empty air where Neo had once stood. "Neo?" He turned back around, expecting her to attack his back. Nothing. "Neo!? Oh Gods…"

He'd been abandoned. In a random forest God's knew where, late at night… was this punishment for the throwing up, or for him leaving the toilet seat up? He only had two scoops of her ice-cream the other night because it was so hot! It had only been two scoops!

Oh wait; there was a scrap of paper on the floor where she'd been. With a nervous chuckle as he rushed over to it, feeling foolish for his earlier assumptions. No doubt she'd left some kind of instructions for him. Bending over he picked up the paper, holding it before his eyes.

A smiley face.

"Son of a-" His words were cut off by a growl behind him, even as he turned to look into the burning red eyes of a large Ursa, it's back covered in spikes. It seemed to stare at him, as though challenging him. There was a moment where neither of them moved, and it felt to him as though the Ursa was daring him to finish his earlier comment. "…Bitch."

Dirt and leaves scattered as it charged.

Shit, he thought to himself, drawing Crocea Mors with a harsh rasp of metal. It's a single Grimm… remember your training, remem- oh wait, I don't have any training, do I?

The beast roared as Jaune stepped to the side, cringing away from the frightening teeth as they ploughed into the ground where he'd once stood. His blue eyes flicked to his ancestral blade as he readied a strike, only for the monster to take advantage of his hesitation – lunging once more.

"Okay… calm down Jaune…" he mumbled to himself as he dodged the strike, before ducking its paw. The creature landed with a crash, spinning on its hind legs as it slashed towards him. The blond's eyes narrowed in concentration as he leaned left and right, letting the claws sail over his shoulder. Even through his inebriated haze, the creature seemed slow and cumbersome. A far-cry from the deadly girl who normally brutalised – sorry – trained him.

Experimentally he lashed out with Crocea Mors, scoring a deep cut into its shoulder, but not doing any real damage. Blood welled from the wound, and the Ursa roared in displeasure – swiping aggressively with both paws, before trying to slam its entire weight down on him as he ducked. The monster hit the ground in a great crash of dust and soil, a bit of it pelting Jaune's face as he skidded back. There was another cut now, above the Grimm's left eye – and the blood was beginning to seep down across it.

"Well I can hit it," he leapt closer to the creature when it charged him next, and he could see its eyes widen as he came within its guard – only to spin and duck beneath its armpit. Its bulk was moving too fast to get the stab into its rib-cage that he wanted, and the second the tip of the blade dug into flesh, the momentum of the creature tore it out once more. Still, it was enough to bring a small grin to Jaune's face, as the creature panted and eyed him warily.

"Oh, now you're less keen eh? Yeah, that's fair."

He was doing it… he was killing a Grimm.

"Come get some!"

[...]

Neo rolled her eyes at the blond's shout, her blade lancing out to pierce one Ursa's windpipe as she vaulted off its chest, corkscrewing mid-air to dodge another's claws as she landed atop a Beowolf's shoulders, slamming a heel down into its eye. She rode the beast as it fell down, daintily stepping off its face as she surveyed the ten or so dying Grimm.