Blake Belladonna stands on a second story deck outside her father's office. The broken moon shines over the house. Blake stares at her father's door, beside which hangs an empty birdcage, when Kali Belladonna speaks, startling her.
Kali: You know, you can always go in and say hi.
Kali is carrying a tray with a tea set on it.
Blake: I don't wanna bother him.
Kali: A father's never too busy for his daughter.
Blake: Not all of my friends would agree with you on that.
Kali: You've never been very talkative, but that boy you brought home loves to run his mouth. I wanna hear more about the adventures of Team RWBY.
Kali walks away, her footsteps audible.
Ghira: (calling out from inside his office) Kali? Is that you, dear?
Blake gives a nervous start of surprise when she hears his voice. The tray shakes in her hands, and she lets out a quiet whine.
Ghira straightens some paperwork on his desk. The porch door slides open and Blake steps inside.
Blake: Uh, hey dad.
Ghira: Blake! Well, this is a pleasant surprise.
Blake: I...
Ghira: (standing) Please, come sit.
Father and daughter both move to the oversized coffee table and lounge furniture, and Blake sets the tea set at the end where her father sits.
Ghira: Don't worry, I've got it. Sit down, sit down.
Blake: I don't wanna keep you if you're--
Ghira: (pouring tea) Nonsense, I've been cooped up in here all day.
He puts a cube of sugar in the cup nearest Blake.
Ghira: You still take sugar, right?
Blake: Oh, actually, uh-
Ghira: (pulling back nervously) Oh! Sorry!
Blake: No, no no no, it's fine.
Ghira: Oh, here, take this one.
Blake: (taking her cup) No, really. It's, it's no big deal.
Ghira: You sure?
Blake: Positive.
Ghira: Old habits, I suppose.
Blake takes a sip of her tea and winces with a tiny exclamation of pain.
Ghira: Might wanna let it cool.
Blake: (slight pain in her voice) Right.
She sets the cup down on the table.
Ghira: So... is it... warm... in Vale?
Blake: Huh?
Ghira: It just... seems like your outfit doesn't cover very much.
Blake looks down at herself and crosses her arms.
Blake: It covers plenty.
Ghira: I mean, a little more armor might help. Don't you think?
Blake: I'm fine. I don't need armor. I can look after myself.
Ghira: I... (sighing) I know you can. I'm sorry.
He sets down his own cup. Blake's expression saddens, and she looks away, bowing her head.
Blake: Why?
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