From the shadows she emerges behind the huntsman and the air chills, an ominous energy filling the space between them... "I know it was you."
qrow gets a right lungful of cold air with his next breath, nearly freezing his lungs. the shiver travels the entire way along his spine to stiffen his stance. hairs on the back of his neck stand tall next.
before Glynda even speaks a word.
and then she does, and he fears more for his life than several face-offs with most grimm or any of the other events in the past several days. Ironwood’s got nothing on Goodwitch in a rage.
“heeeeeeeeeyyyy, Glyn.” he drawls, drags out a few more seconds before his sentencing.
the urge is strong to simply leap into the air and fly away, hoping his feathers can take him quick enough to somewhere she couldn’t reach, but somehow, someway, he knows she’d just find him and he’ll be right back in this position again.