He was sixteen— almost an adult, or even 'adult enough' by certain standards. Age and the well of experience that he hadn't lived had not prepared him for the volleying back and forth between Paul and Mariana's sea that he had endured for the last month. Time with Paul was a unique experience... But, the lost time he could do without.

He was just glad to be back.

"I know," he commented, recollecting the weeks Ozpin had spent buried away in their collective, depression and fear overriding his everything in a single moment where all of his multitude of layers were torn away.

"And we keep doing it, no matter how often we need to do it."

He sighed.

"It's just tiring, Pyrrha. And, I don't want to be away from home for so long again."