As Dorren stood to take his seat, Henrietta leaned into the hold to address them. "We're going to hold this position until another jet arrives, she needs medical attention immediately" said Henrietta to the team. "If we can secure this find, it may help us in treating your teammate. Be seeing you," and she signaled the pilot to take off. As the scene was drifting away they could make out the sounds of the continued combat, particularly the chatter of gunfire and shrieks of pain and death.

In the hold of the jet were two opposing benches, on one sat the three and the other laid the one. In the center of the three sat the leader, his head held in his hands. Of the three, he took the thought of losing her the worst. No one dared to speak, not with such a dark cloud looming over them. If Dorren had ever raised his head from his hands one could have seen the vacant expression in his eyes, the hollow gaze of a man confused. Should he move forward or slow down? Keep fighting or give up? On his left, Olivia wore her default cold disguise that betrayed the storm of thought behind it. Erol was different. While his face gave way to grief, his eyes burned with a defiant fire.

This is the damage I have caused, the Headmaster thought has he awaited the jet. Standing on the landing pad were some of the infirmary staff, Professor Goodwitch, and himself. I at least owe it to see her when she arrives, and her team owes her much more. There he waited with a mug of coffee in one hand and his cane in the other, perched on one of the highest points of the Academy overlooking Vale and its surrounding. The jet carrying Team DOVE would be coming from the east, almost coming out of the sun itself. When he squinted hard enough, he could just barely see it.

When it neared the landing pad, the thrusters swiveled forward to slow down and begin its descent. Before it had even touched down, the medical staff were already bringing the stretcher near for a quick transfer. One of them pulled out a motionless body. Vi. A feeling of unease crept into his chest. Though she was still alive, for now, he still wasn't used to the sight. Ozpin hoped he never would be. True, she was a huntress in training but she is still basically a child. An injured child was something he would not stand for. Fortunately Professors Skyye and Caldera were still in the forest returning her suffering hundredfold.

The stretcher was passing by, there weren't any cuts on her nor tears in her battle gear, only the blood on her lips and a ghastly purple scar on her right hand. Team Dove walked on either side of her, the leader and largest of them holding her left hand. Ozpin held out his cane before the team, separating the three from their fallen teammate.

"Haven't you done enough!?" bellowed Dorren. The large man quickly advanced the Headmaster as if to challenge him, only to collide with a purple screen. Behind Ozpin stood Glenda, her riding crop drawn and a faint purple glow emanating from its tip.

"I understand that emotions run high at times like this. I've been there before and so I'll forgive the... aggression. Once. Understood?

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Good, I have a task for all of you already: rest," Ozpin began. "Likely, none of you will be able to focus in your classes for a short while, so you may as well get a pass from them through tomorrow. Do whatever you feel is necessary to calm your minds and relax your bodies. Your teammate will be occupied with imaging and diagnostics for most of today, so you may visit her tomorrow. Now go, it is only morning and you have already had a long day."

Their room felt wholly different, though it hadn't changed at all. They all sat down on their own beds, but one bed without its owner made their team home feel... wrong. Without their magus in attendance their room seemed less bright and the very air felt thick. The first to speak up was Dorren, "I'm gonna try and sleep..." he said and laid down facing the wall by his bed. Erol eventually stood and paced the room restlessly. Olivia simply watched as he crossed back and forth and quickly became frustrated with himself. Finally he left, only saying "I'll be back later."

Olivia sat cross-legged at the head of her bed with her back against the wall. Closing her eyes, she thought through the events of that morning. The Grimm had been more than manageable until the Deathstalkers showed up. Their standard Deathstalker takedown tactic had never failed them before, except this time they didn't even attempt it. When beset by only a few, Vi will launch them into the air where the rest are able to strike the exposed underside. Taking matters into her own hands, Vi borrowed a page from Erol's old book and completely ignored procedure. While her decision was rash and irresponsible, it was likely the only way they all stood a chance of making it home alive. If they had kept to their protocol, as soon as someone moved in for the kill they would be vulnerable to all of the other Deathstalkers around it. They were essentially fighting a phalanx of Deathstalkers.

No matter how many times she played through the scenario in her mind, she couldn't imagine a successful outcome that did not involve Vi's sacrifice. At that time, their strategy relied on the boys holding the line while the girls disabled them and set up kills. The high density of Deathstalkers put a high price on taking one out of the equation. She kept repeating the morning in her mind until her concentration was broken by a mumbling across the room, Dorren. While a lot of his sleep talk was unintelligible, she could easily make out "Vi" a few times and his tossing and turning said that his dreams did not bode well. I doubt he will be able to get this out of his head soon, she thought. Before drifting off to sleep herself, she thought she heard "Don't do it."

Olivia was woken with a start when Dorren shot upright in bed. Returned from the likely doom-ridden dream world, he rubbed at his face with his hands and then dropped them onto his lap. After zoning out while staring at the covers, "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

She reached over and took her scroll from the nightstand, "It's 4:13, about 6 hours."

"I didn't think I would be able to sleep that long," he said as he threw off the covers and stood up. After finally looking around the room, "Where's Erol?"

She shrugged, "Said he'd be back later."

"Alright then," as he bent over and collected his scroll and wallet and put them in pockets.

"Going somewhere?" inquired Olivia.

"Gonna get something to eat."

"Cafeteria?" She stood up and stretched her legs, they were tight from her unintended sleep position.

He was started toward the door, "No, going out."

There it is, she thought. She walked hurriedly and beat him to the door. He isn't going only to eat, and he's not going alone. "I'm coming too." she declared, standing just before him and blocking the door with her relatively small frame.

"You don't have to," said Dorren. He fumbled for something else to dissuade her until he saw the face of a girl that wasn't going to budge. "Suit yourself," he relented.

Evening found the two in the Trusty Blade pub, a Hunter favorite. The Trusty Blade was a homey place that had the feeling of an old tavern. Much of the inside was wood, from the tables and chairs to the floor and exposed rafters above. The only significant parts of the room that weren't made of wood were the walls, made of stacked and mortared stone. The walls were adorned with effects strongly geared towards their particular crowd, full-fledged Hunters and Beacon's Hunters in training. Hanging on the wall was an array of weapons that would leave only the most unusual Hunter's weapon unrepresented. Over the bar loomed an imitation head of every kind of Grimm wandering the forest outside of Vale.

Still early in the evening on a Thursday, there were only a few other patrons in the sprawling affair that was the main dining area. While there would be only a few people to possibly hear the conversation, the flipside of the coin was the lack of overlapping conversations to drown out theirs to outsiders. Seated at a high table, they each had a bar burger and fries. With their meals, Dorren had a tall glass of ale, a contrast to Olivia's short glass of bourbon over ice. The waitress had been instructed to "keep them coming."

"I remember when we first came here," she initiated, to his surprise. Dorren tried to think back to their first year, to the team's inception. "When you all but dragged me here to talk?" helped Olivia.

"That's right, when I assigned you your first mission on Team DOVE." he recalled. "Which is going very well, might I add. We haven't discussed it much since then."

"He has gotten much better. Back then he would hardly listen to you, now he's at least grudgingly doing what he's told. Maybe this morning's events will help drive the point home." The mere mention of that morning visibly darkened the leaders mood, despite the alcohol. He took a long sip and stared into his drink. "There was nothing to be done. We both know that." Dorren furrowed his brow, thinking hard. Olivia let him think for a short while and continued, "I thought through this morning many times over while you were asleep, I have serious doubts we would be here having this conversation if Vi hadn't thought to... you know."

"I've been starting the same thing myself." said Dorren.

"Good, you've at least started down the path of not blaming yourself," she comforted.

"There's still plenty of room for that."

"Don't give me that. There wasn't a conceivable plan that would have killed the Deathstalkers and kept us alive. Our normal strategy works well for our team and standard encounters, this morning was an exception to the rule, and its not fair to yourself to judge by the exception."

"But the problem with not judging by the exception is this; the exception is what gets a whole team killed. Throwing out the strategy and enemy as problems, what does that leave?" Olivia had an idea what he was getting at, but didn't want to be right. "Us." She was right. "For either our team composition or simply our team strength, this morning was an impossible battle." With this, he finished off what was his fourth tall glass of ale, and the first three were beginning to show. Shortly after, the waitress appeared with another full glass in hand and removed the empty one. Olivia looked from him to the glass repeatedly and let him come up with her question. "Yes, I am going to finish it. I've already paid for it." He wasn't going to be drunk by the time they left, but he certainly wasn't going to be all there.

She raised her hands in concession, she couldn't stop him if she wanted to. Good thing I tagged along, she thought.

"So basically the answer is get stronger?" she asked.

"It's not THE answer, but that doesn't mean is doesn't belong on the table."

"So we pretend it is. How do you propose we do that?"

"For starters we could up our time spent training and sparring..." he suggested.

"Which only really works for you and Erol." Dorren raised an eyebrow. "Well, my best targets are Beowolves and Ursi, I can take them down faster than even Vi unless she really goes all out. But against larger and more armored Grimm the best I can manage is slowing them down, I can't really kill them on my own"

Dorren couldn't argue. While she excelled at handling numerous small targets, her effectiveness against large foes was lacking, stemming from both her weapon arrangement and her lack of physical strength. Her precision and speed more than made up for this when set against Beowolves and the like, but the size and armor of larger Grimm more readily yield to the strength of a Hunter and his weapon. No matter how impeccably she could place her bolts, she was still limited on the damage she could inflict and sparring wasn't going to do much to help. Whether it was some solution or a reassurance, he struggled to find something to say until Olivia held up a hand and said "I'll come up with something."

"Training and sparring won't do much for Vi either." she muttered.

He was about to respond when the waitress suddenly appeared, "Would you like another?"

Caught off guard, Dorren fumbled his words until Olivia spoke up, "No, I think he's done," and the waitress seemed relieved.

Though still capable of walking in a straight line, Dorren was definitely moving at a slower pace than normal as they walked in the general direction of Beacon. Under the passing streetlights, his face was less rigid than when they had entered the bar, the alcohol simply helping him not think about what happened this morning. They didn't know the time nor did they care for it, as it was well into the evening and the round full moon was almost overhead.

Through Beacon's main gate, Dorren slowed to a stop. Hands in his pockets, he gazed across the expanse of the academy, their home, looking lost in thought. Olivia turned around and addressed him with a questioning "Hm?"

"It's..." he started, and then paused to collect his words. "I don't know what I'm going to do without her."

"I get that, if she was both my partner and childhood friend I would be a mess too." She consoled. As an afterthought added, "You say it like she's already gone."

"You're right, she isn't. But still..." he choked out before stopping to regain himself.

Is he actually about to say it?, thought Olivia. Their leader was adept at maintaining an image of platonic friendship toward their downed teammate. He made great efforts to encourage the team to bond, but he and Vi came into the team with that level of connection so the other two were able to watch as 'outsiders.' He didn't necessarily favor her out of fairness toward his team, but Olivia could think of at least a few times where he felt more than he let on. She and Erol didn't know all of the details, like if she had turned him down before, but they could guess that a relationship was not completely off of the table.

"But I..." he tried again.

She waited to see if he would continue, but saw that he wasn't going to get anywhere soon and gave him an out. "Come on, let's just keep walking," she offered. He willingly agreed.

When they got back to their room, Dorren simply flopped down onto his bed. Tired and intoxicated, it wasn't long before Olivia heard his telltale low, soft snore. Not nearly as subdued by the alcohol, Olivia decided to wait for Erol to get back before going to sleep. She had been paging through her scroll for about an hour before the door opened.

When he turned back around after gently closing the door, Erol met the eyes of a still awake Olivia. He knew what she would ask, and responded "working out, practice, stuff..."

A little of her surprise showed, "All day?"

"Most of it."

"Don't you get hurt, too." she warned.

He considered her words for a moment, and said "One of us has to do something."

"We will, just not right now. Think about him for a moment."

Erol reassured her, "Oh, I did. He gets some slack. Some."