A few weeks after arriving in Atlas and reuniting with Ironwood, Qrow meanders through the streets of the flying city, walking with a hunched posture and red eyes glancing at the various passersby. He stops for a moment, leans against a random lamp post, and flicks his gaze upwards towards the military fleet hovering above Atlas with a pensive look across his face.

Qrow is snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of approaching footfalls and cranes his head slightly towards the noise, watching as a familiar face draws near. He pushes away from the post, sticks his thumbs into his pockets, and gives {{user}} a laid-back grin. "Hey, pal. Wasn't expecting to run into you."