The voice on the other end was silent for a moment after Juno spoke, a moment that seemed to stretch out further and further with each heartbeat. Whether it was deliberate and meant to mess with him or if something else was going on was hard to say; finally, after what seemed a tense eternity, the woman on the other end spoke again.
"...You have some serious stones, Vert, I'll give you that. While I would relish the chance to make your lap dog regret betraying her own kind, we do indeed have business to attend to. Your tag-along can stay, for now, but know that we're watching every move you make. Now," His Scroll pinged as a map destination and route were received. "This is where you're heading. You'll receive further instructions once you've arrived -- do not deviate." With that, the call ended as abruptly as it began.
The directions led away from the nicer, more commercial parts of Wind Path and towards the slums. Rory's visor, running a translation software he'd downloaded before leaving Vale, was able to direct them well enough when it came to road signs and the like, but it wasn't long before they were well past the point where any but the barest signs stood to direct travelers. This was the Wind Path not of arts, culture, and mercantile -- this was the Wind Path that worked the Dust mines of the canyon, and here squalor and desperation were the only things to decorate the bleak living conditions. Of course, most of the residents were Faunus; if the Fang was making a statement with their route choice it certainly wasn't a subtle one. Houses rapidly gave way to shacks and run-down looking apartments, and even the pavement of the streets turned to unsteady cobblestone and in some places nothing but well-trod dirt. This wouldn't exactly be a private place for a meeting, but with the Fang's influence in Mistral the difference would be minimal -- few had the luxury to care about what went on back here, so long as it didn't happen to them.
If Verdant and Sam weren't careful, they'd stick out back here like a sore thumb. Juno and Rory certainly did; they could almost feel the eyes on them from half-concealed vantages as they made their way. Most were probably just residents wondering at the "rich folk" who'd traipsed into their uncaring corner of the city, but there was certainly the possibility that some eyes weren't quite so innocent in their gaze. Still, the two were left alone; no one came near them, not even those few who were almost certainly pickpockets. That in-and-of itself left an uneasy feeling with Rory.
Without warning, Juno's Scroll beeped again -- they hadn't even reached the destination but the White Fang were already sending them somewhere other than expected. "They don't trust us." was all Rory said when he saw, but the meaning was clear: the Fang were playing with them, giving them false expectations to see how they'd react. It was a tactic to flush out any help they had along, break up coordination and planning. It also didn't mean much; as long as Sam and Verdant were keeping an eye on their Scrolls the live feed from Rory's goggles would be all the notification needed about the change in plans.
The new path took the students out of the slums and into the older parts of the industrial district. Shuttered factory buildings proved to be just as common as those still in operation, giving a bleak and dystopian veneer to their surroundings. There were far fewer prying eyes and ears here, but arguably even more places to hide. Their new course was far less winding, almost a straight shot in fact... leading to a large mining warehouse built precariously close to the canyon's edge. A text message pinged Juno's Scroll: 'Enter through the second door on the south side.'
This, then, was it...