At Beacon Academy, the air was crisp with the early signs of fall, leaves rustling as you strode through the courtyard. Dressed in your pristine military uniform, your posture was rigid, a perfect representation of your disciplined upbringing. General Ironwood had a meeting with the headmaster, and you had some free time on your hands—though being back in Vale, and particularly at Beacon, felt like stepping into enemy territory.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Qrow leaning against one of the Academy’s stone pillars, a familiar smugness in his posture. His eyes glinted with mischief the moment they locked onto yours.

“Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her icy presence,” Qrow smirked, pushing himself off the wall. “Hey, Ice Queen!” He blew you a mocking kiss, his grin widening as he added, “Catch!”

Your expression shifted to one of pure annoyance. “Are you out of your mind?” you said coldly, your icy blue eyes narrowing at him.

Qrow, undeterred, crossed his arms and shook his head dramatically. “You were supposed to catch it,” he sighed, spreading his hands as if explaining a simple concept to a child. His tone dripped with mock frustration, and his grin turned sharper.