Sheath (Technoblade x Reader)

♥ 2 ♥

♡ ♥ As the magic spewed from your hands, light retracting into your bones, you felt a shudder run down your spine. It had been years since you ever needed to use that.

The wolves were fast to respond to your call, immediately backing away from the stunned Piglin silently. You could see the surprise in his eyes hidden behind his bone mask, watching the wolves vanish into the woods. His sword was lowered as he looked at the direction they ran off too, as if to make sure they were really gone.

Blood littered the ground, wolf's blood.

You sighed as three wolves laid on the cold ground, their last breaths already taken in the heat of battle. He didn't say a word as you approached the body, grabbing your carving knife and beginning the process of skinning the wolves. The Piglin seemed unharmed, for the most part, as he was still not shaken from the event.

He looked less tense now that the wolves were gone, but he still kept his guard up in front of you. His red eyes watched as you finished with one coat, placing it down to work on another wolf. You knew you would have to come back and collect the meat throughout the night, confident that you would be able to get through this winter just fine now.

"You're the thief that tried to pocket my gold." His voice rang out in the cold air, however it wasn't as tense as it was the first time you ran into him, instead if was more lax. It seemed his memory wasn't as bad as you would have hoped. His snark comment didn't go unnoticed by you as you finished up another wolf, cutting the last strip particularly hard. 

"And you're the one who nearly cut off my hand. What of it?" You responded with the same amount of sarcasm. The Piglin rolled his eyes and huffed, sheathing his sword as he examined himself. He moved his crown to fix his hair a bit, eyes still on you as if you would try and pounce on him. licking your dry lips, your eyes darted to his fangs, then his mask, but returned back to the wolf.

The silence was thick as you finished the final fur, carrying them in a roll on your back as you began your trek back home. The Piglin simply followed you, probably back to his own camp since that's where most of his belongings still laid. The two of you wordlessly agreed to walk with each other, although at a respectable distance of course. You pondered if he was effected by the cold, or if his warm skin cut through this chill.

They were rumoured to be able to walk in lava, of course.

When you finally saw the still-glowing embers of his fire, and the furs for his bed, you turned; looking at the taller figure in what you hoped to be his eyes.

"You spoke a dead language back there." He began, looking bored as if he was wasting his time. His eyes pierced the night sky with the bright red, and you couldn't help but notice the long red cloak draped over his shoulders. Was he royalty, perhaps?

You let go of the furs onto the ground, knowing that you weren't going to be getting out of this conversation soon unless you answered truthfully.

"It's not dead, just forbidden. The superstitious don't like people who know more than them to speak a powerful language," You were quiet and careful in your wording, as if someone else was in the woods with you. The cold bite of the incoming winter bit at your skin through your thin clothes, but you clenched your jaw to stop you from chattering, "and besides, I saved your life. You broke focus and allowed one of those wolves nearly attack from behind."

"I knew it was there."

"And I have eyes in the back of my head." You retorted.

"Nothings impossible here." He spoke, a hint of amusement in his voice. Annoyed, you turned to look at him, noting how his hair was wild from the lack of attention. Staring right past his bone mask and into his crimson eyes, you scowled.