OF SWORDS AND HAMMERS (JauneXnora) [working title]{first fic}

INTRO:FOREST HUNT

AN:this is my first fic on this site. I usually don't do things like this but I just had this idea stuck in my head and had to get it out! Please let me know if you want me to continue this project, I may not be all that fast on updating it (writers block is a total B.)
Hopefully if I do further chapters they won't be as long as this one was, it was this long so that I could feasibly leave if as a one shot.
I hope my writing isn't completely terrible and look forward to any constructive feedback(flames will be ignored and blocked.)

Thanks for reading this long AN rant, I hope you enjoy.

He was running through dense forest, how far and for how long he couldn't remember, all he knew was that he had to reach his destination before his pursuers caught up and join back up with his team and allies.
"Maaaaann, why did I have to volunteer to be the bait for these psychos?!" He huffed out as he ducked under a fallen tree and leaned against it for a moment to catch his breath, allowing his enemies to gain some ground.
'All of the hard training I'd been putting in has really paid off, improving my abilities quite a lot, since I started so long ago.' he thought to himself wryly.
He took off again as the sounds of his hunters reached him through the brush, ' hmm about five of them still coming huh? Should be doable if I get to the clearing ahead.'
He could see his destination now, a clearing in the forest only 10 meters away, judging by the markings he'd left on a rock not far away.
His destination was a long forgotten site with broken old ruins poking up into the sky, this was where his friends were waiting for him, where she was waiting. He shook that thought from his head, she wasn't his, he shouldn't feel that way about her, 'no bad Jaune!'.
Once he'd collected himself he set off at a brisk pace, his armour and tools barely shifting after all the work he and his friends had put into improving the fit and versatility of his arsenal and gear.
As he made his way into the ruins, he raised a hand and made some pre-determined gestures that only his people would know, to tell them how many were after him and that they weren't all that far behind him.
He quickly made his way over to the far side of the old "town centre" as it once must have been. Stopping by an old burnt out storefront that was still mostly intact, he leaned his back and sipped from his tactical issued water canteen while once more catching his breath and briefly thought that his hair had finally grown back long enough (longer than before) to put up into a passable wolf's tail that he remembered many famous warriors of the past had done.

He readied himself and waited.

He only waited for a few moments longer, then his quarry entered through the only visible path to the abandoned ruin.
They were relatively carefree for people hunting someone, like they somehow knew they'd be making an easy kill.
Their commander on the other hand looked furious.
In a lilting, heavy basso tone voice he bellowed. "Et's over ya' bleedin' white Demon!" The scratchiness of long overuse by yelling at his subordinates for losing people to the 'White Demon' was evident in the man's voice.

A sardonic, downright sarcastic, voice that didn't sound much older than a boy in his early twenties rang forth as his reply.

"Yeah, it's definitely over, commander Warren Steel-Lock, juuust one tiny little problem, it's not over for the one you think it is!" He had a confident smirk on his face, and for perhaps the first time his enemies could see his face clearly.
Deep, dark-blue eyes looked at them almost in pity at the situation they found themselves in, those eyes were set below a head of long bright blonde hair, recently pulled back into a warriors wolf tail, to keep it out of his eyes and prevent it from obscuring his vision.
His face was indeed young, now looking more seventeen rather than twenty.
The boy wore a well refitted white chest plate over a hoodie and military cargo pants, with steel soled combat boots. There was a sword belted at his hip, that he now drew, un-clipping  the sheath as he did and settling it on his arm, triggering it to expand into a white heater shield, as he called out.