The two met in a quiet forest, each in a throne constructed of different kinds of roots. For her, a throne of blackened, charred bark, intimidating and terrifying in tone. For him, freshly purified oakflesh, his throne almost a part of the tree. Between them, a table composed of the different woods, with twin dragons, one light, one dark, battling on the surface as artwork. 

                 They had come here, to talk, as brother and sister, one last time.

              “...” his chocolate eyes peered into her poisoned, crimson-hued orbs. He remained silent, before his voice finally shattered the silence of this long-dead place, still clinging to former beauty.

Qrow was only semi-conscious when Hazel hauled him into the dark fortress, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into unconsciousness. However, the moment Hazel tossed him to the floor, at the base of a throne, his crimson eyes widened and he was wide awake.

        fear. that’s what summer felt, her heart threatening to stop at the simple gaze of her. it should be impossible, she shouldn’t be here.

      “ y -- you --, this is impossible. “