Moonlight's Guidance

CH47: Black Ribbon

Blake's mind was still being fucked with. Once she sent the text, the first thing that logically came to her head was to try and stop the trucks from stealing. Blake still didn't want to hurt her kind, but she was willing to stop a few crates of dust from being stolen. At first, the plan was going well. She snuck around the rooftops, using a silencer attachment on Gambol Shroud to pop tires without gaining much attention.

Unfortunately, she made the mistake of assuming that Sun would gain the attention of all four of Roman's primary henchmen. As Blake jumped to the next rooftop, just a block away from the third truck, a bullet scraped her cheek. A loud bang came from above. The bang of a Model 500 Smith&Wesson.

Blake's eyes went wide with fear as she stared up at the moon. There she was. El Ángel de la Muerte. In her right hand, the smoking revolver's hammer was already pulled back for a second shot.

Wings: Hola, puta.

She descended from the skies and put her revolver back in its holster. Blake instinctively backed away from her with Gambol Shroud in gun form.

Wings: Still running, hermana?

Blake's voice was shaky. It took all her will not to stutter as she spoke.

Blake: What do you want?

Wings gave her a shocked look before curling over laughing.

Wings: What do I want? Try asking yourself that question.

Blake: I want what's right.

Suddenly, another figure jumped up to the rooftops. It was Harley in all her stupidly psychotic glory. Blake stepped back, but tripped too far and bumped into Wings. The girl gasped and jumped to the nearest rooftop, still in earshot.

Harley: And what's that, Blakey? You left us because of what you thought was right? Do tell.

Blake's lips pursed. A lump got caught in her throat. Even if she found the courage to open her mouth, not a single thought in her head would become words.

Wings: Harley, Ludwig needs help with that faunas. You know the rules.

Harley: I don't kill faunas. I'll rough him up for a little bit, though.

Wings: If he gets too hurt, you'll have to take it up with Adam.

Blake's eyes sunk to the ground. Wings noticed, which made her scowl. Harley noticed her noticing and got the hint to skedaddle. The bunny hopped away, leaving the two.

Blake: Wings, if this is about... him, I'm sorry-

Wings: You think I hate you because of what you did to Adam?

The Amazonian's hand shook with anger, but it stopped as she rested it on her revolver.

Wings: You hurt all of us. We were a family, Blake. Every time you had one of your existential crisis, we would help you. We all helped you! And to this fucking day...

Her glare was fierce enough to melt away the sun.

Wings: You have the audacity to still use my ribbon.

The world between them flickered to an older time. Blake was a young cat faunas teen with hope in her still cowardly eyes. Wings was a year older. Her long brown hair was still kept in a ponytail by a ribbon. She didn't have a badass trenchcoat or big irons. Both of them were wearing basic White Fang uniforms without their signature weapons. Blake had a katana while Wings had two Glock 19s.

Then, time snapped again. This time, Wings was without the black ribbon. Instead, it was wrapped around Blake's wrist. The two of them were older. While Blake still had a basic White Fang uniform, Wings had gained her current gear.