Vasim had gotten ugly, that was certain. But then, this was Vacuo. Ugly was part of life. 

Rust Mallory had actually been on his way to Vasim earlier in the day, hoping for a nice bed, a nice meal, and a bath. Not necessarily in that order. But the Huntsman had gotten tired, and instead of pushing the rest of the way into town he'd decided to just pull his rattletrap old truck-slash-living space into a fairly isolated rocky patch and take a nap. It wasn't an unusual thing for him to do, and in all honesty the Faunus spent far more nights sleeping in his vehicle than in any town. 

It was the sirens that woke him from his sleep. He was still a ways from Vasim itself, but sound carries across the desert with no large structures to stop it. Within moments he had begun driving again, hoping to get to the settlement in time to help. By the time he'd gotten too close to safely drive any further, it became very clear that he had failed. 

Silencing his scroll Rust made his final approach to the town on foot, slipping through the sparse cover and utilizing his semblance to create screening clouds of sand when needed. Already he had seen far too many Grimm. He ground his teeth in frustration as he got closer and the stink of smoke hit him. Where had they come from? There shouldn't have been so many, or ones so big anywhere close. Vasim was remote, but not unsupported. 

Rust sprinted the last stretch to the wall, and with a leap shot upwards, hands reaching. The Huntsman caught the top of the wall and pulled himself up into a balanced crouch, keen eyes peering into the city. With another leap he vaulted into one of the town's watch towers. It was a simple affair, a single room where one or two people could keep watch for bandits or Grimm. A single table, a pair of chairs, a half-eaten meal. No bodies though. Whoever had there had either left the tower to try and help. Or to try and escape. Either way it was painfully obvious that chances were good that both options had been bad ones. 

He crouched at the edge of the tower, tracking the movements of Grimm below, looking for signs of survivors. Rust wasn't an overly large man, but he wasn't small either. If any of the monsters below looked up they would have at least even chances on spotting him. Thankfully with the light dying and the shadows of the tower itself his dark jacket and pants helped cloak him further. Of course there was no helping the red shock of hair on top of his head. There had been a shudder from his silenced scroll earlier, but he continued to ignore it. No sense in causing undue noise right now, not with so many enemies about. Although his every instinct screamed at him to dive into the street and go on the offensive, Rust held back. The numbers weren't good, and a more stealthy approach was called for. 

But that was before he saw the Nevermore and the Huntress it had begun to take an interest in. With a single smooth movement he brought Savage Arc into his hand, the weapon shifting into its bow configuration with a series of quiet clicks. Rust could see more Grimm pulled towards the focus of the Nevermore's interest, catching wind of the out-in-the-open woman on the roof. His eyes glanced over the route he'd need to get to her, calculating distance and the Grimm's movements. 

Doable. 

Rust stood and drew and arrow from his quiver before turning and moving back to the far side of the tower. There was a brief moment where his lips wanted to curl into a smile, knowing the adrenaline high that was about to hit his system. There were few things better than taking out Grimm, that was certain. 

With a rush he was moving. Four steps and he was airborne, arcing out from the watch tower, black jacket flapping in the wind of his passage. He hit the roof of the next building and rolled forward, coming back to his feet with a smoothness that his old trainers would have been proud of. In an instant Rust was running again. Savage Arc lifted in his hands and he pulled back the string, drawing the lightning arrow back to his cheek and taking careful aim. With a snap he let the arrow fly, then leaped again. 

If it struck home, the arrow would loose a small storm of electrical energy into the monster. Arcs of violet light would dance and crawl across the screeching Grimm as it flailed and struggled to stay airborne. Certainly wouldn't be enough for a kill shot - the bird was too big for that - but it would hopefully be enough to buy time and deal some damage. 

Rust touched down a few feet to Gwyn's left, immediately pulling a second arrow from his quiver and sparing the Huntress a quick glimpse before looking back to the Grimm overhead. He was surprised to find that the woman carried no visible weapon of any kind, but then again there was the glowing sphere of... something in her hand. 

"Well, glad I'm not the only one who was close by."