Arcfall (Male Reader Insert)

Chapter Eighteen

"Who's that?"

"I don't know but he looks so mysterious!"

"Either way, he's a cutie," A gaggle of girls who thought you couldn't hear them whispered to each other. You paused your walk and waved in their direction, confirming that you had noticed them chit chatting about you. Their faces went flush and they moved away from you to save themselves from embarrassment. Extraordinary hearing from hunter training had its uses, you supposed. You had been in the village for three days, and for three days you had been the talk of the town. Everyone asked who you were, why you were there, how long you would be staying. And you could hear all of it. That was one downside of hunter trained hearing, you supposed. As it stood you were presently stuck in a small village, with nothing to do, unable to speak, and unable to drink. You had ripped an IV out of your own arm, you had been so dehydrated. Which meant no alcohol. No voice meant no conversation. And no CCT coverage meant your scroll was useless. You paused your walk at a bench in the town center. It was in the sunlight, unoccupied, and looked warm. You decided to stop and claim half of the bench to yourself. You leaned back, soaking in the warming rays of the sun, charging your semblance a bit but also just enjoying the heat. You closed your eyes and leaned back, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Need a hand?" You asked the local blacksmith as she tried to keep a weapon straight and hammer it at the same time. You had been in Balur for one week now. Your voice was finally returning, although you were still recovering from the dehydration. Which meant you still couldn't drink.

"You know anything about forging, armrest?" The blacksmith, a woman who was easily over seven feet with a red braid over one shoulder and an exposed pair of abs, asked. The woman was a faunus of some kind. She had scales covering her forearms and legs, as well as a tail that draped behind her.

"Made my weapon myself. I had some help, but I know my way around a forge," you replied. The woman grunted in confirmation, before offering you her tongs. You shook your head before grabbing the base of the sword with your bare hands. The blacksmith let out a gasp and grabbed your hands, turning them upwards,

"What's wrong with you..." she trailed off as she examined your unscarred hands, in stark contrast to her own. Burn scars and calluses covered her whole hands, making them rough to the touch. The part of her arms without them, however, were surprisingly smooth for scales

"Didn't anyone tell you?" you asked as you returned your hands to the base of the blade. "I'm fireproof."

You weren't quite sure where you were. That seemed to be a recurring theme these past few nights. One possibility was that you were at the inn after a long night of drinking. It was the most common occurrence, and the fact that you did not presently remember the night before was a point in its favor. The fact that you were not presently suffering from a hangover, however, was a point against. Another possibility was that you were in a tent on the edge of town. It was where you had been brought when the townspeople found you. It was far too warm for that, however. Wait, it was far too warm for you to be outside, and you were currently wrapped in something very warm. It could be someone's heated blanket. You tried to blink a few times, adjust your eyes to the dark. It didn't work. Your next plan was to get up. You reached for whatever was currently wrapped around your chest, only to feel a pair of thick, scaled hands.

"Go back to sleep armrest..." the woman you were currently sharing a bed with muttered. Ah yes, that had been what happened last night.