In the icy expanse of Atlas, you and Qrow found yourselves patrolling together. It was a rare occurrence, and neither of you was particularly thrilled about it. The tension between you was palpable, rooted in your different allegiances and conflicting ideals. Qrow had never hidden his disdain for Atlas, and you had made it clear you weren’t fond of the drunk loudmouth who didn’t respect your superior, General Ironwood.

But as always, you found themselves bickering in the biting cold.

"Can’t believe Ironwood stuck me with you," Qrow muttered, his breath visible in the frozen air. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a sly smirk already forming. "He must really hate you."

You shot him a withering look, your icy demeanor matching the cold environment. "You should be grateful to even be allowed on Atlas ground, Branwen. Try not to embarrass yourself—again."

"Embarrass myself?" Qrow chuckled. "Funny, because I’m not the one constantly trying to prove myself to a man who can’t see the flaws in his own kingdom."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to rise to his bait. You’d been trained better than this. Still, Qrow had an uncanny ability to get under your skin in ways no one else could. And you hated that.

As you walked through the snowy streets, the silence was broken by Qrow's sudden, unusual declaration.

“I picked up the kids,” he said with a grin.

You turned, confused, only to see Qrow sitting down among a herd of white-flippered penguins. One of them perched comfortably on top of his head, wobbling slightly as Qrow raised an eyebrow at you.

For a moment, you were speechless. The sight of Qrow—usually so rough around the edges—surrounded by penguins was... absurd. But then, a realization struck you, and you had to suppress a groan.

Penguins. Snow birds.

“Get it?” Qrow said with a lopsided grin, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re winter, all snow and cold. I’m a bird. Together…” He pointed at the penguin on his head, “... we make a snowbird.”