Post by azdgari on Jan 21, 2011 22:23:27 GMT -5
Small doodlings on scenes from the movie from Toothless's perspective. it's a delightful challenge to try to understand the mind of a character who never speaks!
Test Drive
Being back in the sky felt like finally being alive again.
The glorious sensation of gliding, carving through the plumes of clouds and drifting through the airstreams returned to me a vivacity lost since Hiccup maimed me.
Funny, I chuckled to myself, when I was hit I was terrified at the thought just what horrific beast could have downed me like that… In truth it was a scrawny Viking nobody. And now, it was my scrawny Viking nobody. Sure, at first I hated the little guy. I mean, he blew off half my tail, tangled me up and left me sitting in the middle of a clearing for a night to make friends with the local wildlife. But I have to admit, he surprised me when he set me free. I was so thankful I expressed my rage by yelling a long obscenity at him rather than pounding his face into casserole.
And since then, I’ve even developed a little nub of affection for him. He sort of reminds me of a human, awkward version of me. He’s pretty clever and he’s got a spirit in him unlike the other humans. He even figured out how to fix my tail, although there are still a few kinks to be ironed out.
And that was what today was all about: a test drive. Although I wasn’t too excited about it, flying was no longer going to be a solo deal. We’d become symbiotic: I needed him controlling half of my rudder. He’d come up with some bizarre system for communicating just what he was doing back there; If only there was a way to let him know that I can feel everything he’s doing and he’s really just making himself sound silly. Oh well.
That familiar nasally but friendly voice drifted down from my back to my ears, “Okay there, bud, we’re gonna take this nice and slow,” he reassured me. I rolled my eyes to myself. Nice and slow is not how I like to fly, I thought to myself impatiently.
His fumbling murmurs whipped past in the wind, “Here we go, oh, here we go, uh… Position three, no… four,” he finished indecisively, looking back and deliberately shifting my tail into an updraft-glide position.
Spreading my wings and rudder flaps flap, I felt the strength of the warm current of air cushioning my underbelly and keeping me airborne. We skated through the air effortlessly. I felt Hiccup lurch in the saddle a few times when the current shifted. Hey, be careful up there! If you fall, I’m falling with you!
“Aright, it’s go time, it’s go time,” Hiccup said as much to himself as to me as he shifted me forward into a dive.
I shook out my wings and let a joyful, primal grin climb across my face. Now you’re talking!
Forbidden Friendship
I looked down from my perch to see Hiccup shuffling about nervously. Of course, I’d heard him coming a while ago so it was no surprise. But I hadn’t heard the fish.
Now I had run into a bit of a dilemma. It was awfully tempting for me to rip him limb from limb and stain the pond red with his blood and then eat my fish in peace. But something inside me squirmed at the thought. Perhaps it was because he had spared me earlier? That must be it, I convinced myself.
I skulked down from my perch silently; I was halfway to the ground when Hiccup turned and nearly dropped the fish in fright. Feeling slightly better, I dropped to the ground and circled him, appraising him with a withering glare. You are going to give me that fish, I said with my eyes.
Hiccup timidly offered me the fish, holding it out as far from his body as he could. Yeah, that’s more like it, I smirked to myself. I betrayed none of my pleasure, however. I stared him down fiercely as I inched closer. I was so close… I was almost intoxicated by the scent of fresh fish drifting through my nose… Then I leapt back, loosing a threatening growl: I smelled metal.
With a look of fear, Hiccup opened his vest, revealing the offending dagger. No, you get the hell rid of that! I snarled. ]Hiccup seemed to understand my sentiments and dropped it to the ground as if it were poison he was trying to rid himself of. With a jerk of my head and a growl I explained I wanted it gone. He complied, throwing it into the lake with a rather dexterous display with his feet.
As the metal sank into the depths of the pond, I raised up out of my hostile stance into an inquisitive crouch. He trusts me enough to leave me at his mercy, I noted with interest. I flicked my ear in curiosity. Well, I’m sure it’ll all make more sense on a full stomach, I decided as he held out the fish once more. I prowled closer to his hand and opened wide, trying to angle myself so that I could minimalize the number of his fingers that would come along with the fish.
“Toothless…” I heard him murmur. “I could have sworn you had…” Teeth? I cut him off by unsheathing my teeth and wrenching the fish out of his hand. I swallowed it whole in one bite. Aaaah, fresh fish. Nothing better. “Teeth.” Hiccup finished lamely. With the fish distraction out of the equation, I turned my whole attention to the puny Viking that had been so much trouble.
Hiccup seemed rather alarmed at this development. “Uh, no, no, no!” he spewed as he backed away from me until he ran into a rock, halting his progress. “I don’t have anymore!” he apologized as I scrutinized him closely, practically pinning him to the rock.
Really? This is what I got hunted by? It was my first chance to have a good up close look, and boy, there was not much to see. He was about a tenth the size of his fellow Viking men and he lacked any hair on the face that they seemed to regard as a sign of strength and manhood.
Still… unlike them he didn’t kill me on sight. I guess he’s not all bad, I concluded. But if he’s that thin he must need all the food he can find… With a start I realized I felt a bit guilty at chowing down on what had to be some of this Viking’s only food. With a strange sort of gurgling chortle, I courteously regurgitated half the meal onto his lap. Then, satisfied I had done the right thing, I settled back onto my haunches to wait for him to eat it.
As I backed away from him he seemed to calm down. His dinner plate eyes began to shrink down to size and he started breathing normally again. He looked up at me with an expression of confusion.
And I stared back.
And he stared at me.
And I stared back.
He turned away awkwardly for a moment, the looked back with a sort of tired look in his eyes. Why, it’s for you! I explained, looking down at the fish then up at him again. In a panic, Hiccup mirrored my gesture, then sighed, glancing down at the fish reluctantly. Steeling himself, he slowly bit into the fish, then signaled his approval with a “mmmm!” sound.
My ears perked up in delight. He tried to offer it back to me. Oh no, I couldn’t. It’s all for you! I insisted, mimicking swallowing to explain that he should have the whole thing.
With an effort, Hiccup forced the fish down his gullet with a shiver; That must be the human way to show something tastes good! I deduced, smacking my lips to mirror his sentiment. He then generously showed me his teeth! From the small bits of human culture I was familiar with, I understood this to be a sign of happiness. What a peculiar custom, I thought to myself as I tried to morph my mouth into the bizarre shape. I felt exceedingly goofy.
He seemed empowered by my clumsy grin; he slowly raised himself up. He reached out his hand towards me: I saw it coming closer… then closer… then too close. My defensive instincts kicked in; after all, this was the hand that had brought me down! With a snarl, I leapt away from him. Unfortunately, my instincts had inconveniently forgotten that I couldn’t fly. I flailed through the air in vain for a few seconds before crashing back to the ground on the other side of the canyon.
Shaking it off, I circled around what was to be my den for the night. C’mon now, things were going so well, why did he have to do that? I lamented to myself as I roasted the ground beneath me; I always did like a warm, cozy bed.
Just as I settled my head down, a shrill note from the bird nesting above attracted my attention. I watched longingly as it flew away. You never appreciate things until they’re gone, I thought to myself. I missed the sky’s embrace like another misses her wayward child. In a way, the sky was that mother, and I its lost newborn.
Oh. You again, I thought in irritation as the Viking seemed to materialize in front of me. Sitting in an awfully awkward looking cross-legged position, he gave a reassuring smile and friendly wave.
Yeah, sure, buddy, I said through no subtle body language. Talk to the tail, I grumbled internally, putting up a barrier of scaly flesh between me and the irksome Viking. Moments later, I sensed his hand coming dangerously close to my tail. I whipped up my tail to confront him just as he sprung backwards, walking and whistling his innocence. Enough is enough, I thought, annoyed, as I padded away. That ‘tear his limbs from his body and use his bones as toothpicks’ plan was sounding awfully tempting. With a leap and some clambering, I draped myself over a branch and cocooned myself with my wings. The world was too much for me at the moment; it was time for a dragon-nap.
A few hours must have passed until I woke up, because when I blinked open my eyes the sky held the telltale evening shades of warm indigo and magenta. My gaze drifted upon the outline of my Viking visitor. Still here? I tilted my head in surprise.
As quietly as can a dragon do so, I lumbered over and peered over his shoulder. He seemed a bit perturbed at my doing so, although he did his best to hide it. He was using a stick to draw shapes in the dirt.... Not just any shapes, I realized. He’s sketching a portrait of me! Why, I’m flattered! It was a rather clever idea, really. We used to do the same thing on with our fireballs I had never thought of doing it with a stick before. Eager to give this method a test drive, I bounded to the nearest sapling and tore it free from its roots.
Brimming with enthusiasm, I tried to get a good grip on it with my teeth. It had sort of a pleasant pine taste to it, I noted. As I always did, I let my instincts dictate my movements. Soon, I was weaving what must have seemed to the Viking to be a bizarre and sloppy mishmash of lines. In my excitement I accidentally bashed him over the head with my oversized utensil, but he was watching with such rapt attention that I don’t even think he noticed. When I was finished, I took a step back and nodded, satisfied with my work.
Clearly curious as to the method behind my madness, he stood up, examining the peculiar drawing. He was so preoccupied he stepped on one of my lines! The height of disrespect! I was not one to let someone just stomp on my art; I let him know just how I felt! With a wince, the Viking boy hastily retracted his step. I purred my approval. Then the Viking repeated his actions! The nerve! I one again informed him in no uncertain terms to look, not touch. He retracted his steps, to which I once again sanctioned, and then he set down on the lines again! Okay, one more time and I swear plan ‘cook him with a fireball and use his body as the stick’ is going to be a go, I warned, growling louder than ever. Finally, he tired with the game and stepped over the line. I rewarded him with an extra loud purr of contentment.
From there it was like watching a weird and wonderful dance as Hiccup weaved his way through my lines, taking great care (bless him!) not to trample my work again. I watched with delight as the lines took him exactly where I had designed them to. With a huff of my breath, I gently let him know I was right behind him, his small mane of hair rippling gently from the gust of air. Slowly and painstakingly, Hiccup turned to face me. I looked at him then, truly, for the first time and saw not only a Viking but a kindred spirit not so different from mine. I stared deep into his hazel eyes, reassuring him and telling him he knew what to do.
With an expression of wonder, Hiccup reached out his hand towards me. No, I said, then repeated more firmly when he tried a second time. Momentarily stymied, he looked down. Then realizing what I wanted, he kept his head staring at the ground but gradually, tenderly, and more than anything trustingly extended his hand towards me. With that hand was the trust that I wouldn’t attack him, bite his hand off, or even run away. I gazed at him dead on, and I realized there was more to this Viking than I could have imagined when I first saw him. I closed my eyes and leaned my head in, linking my snout to his hand for an eternal second. When eternity had passed, I removed my snout, shook off the moment, and sped away, leaving the Viking with his thoughts and the memory.
Warmth in the Cold
For the love of the skies, it seems like it snows nine months around here… and hails the other three! I complained to myself as Hiccup and I carved the peculiar shape of a Dragon and rider through the cascades of falling snow.
We’d been taking more and more ambitious flights. After our first test flight, Hiccup had more than proved himself to me as a capable navigator. Honestly, after making it out of that maze of rocks I felt pretty much invincible; all of our other excursions had been smooth sailing in comparison. This was our farthest one yet; we were surrounded by the sprawling, white tipped mountains of Northern “burck” as Hiccup called it.
Aaaah, Hiccup. My little Viking. My awkward, goofy, smart-yet-supid little Viking. We’d gone from prey and predator to predator and prey to cautious partners to real friends. That little seed of affection planted when he most charitably deigned not to kill me had sprouted into a close companionship. To me, Hiccup was sort of the little brother I never had. Sure, I spent plenty of our time together rolling my eyes as he tried to descend through an updraft, or saving his skinny Viking butt from the Gronckle he just inadvertently ticked off. But… he felt like family to me. We understood each other, and like I’ve mentioned before we’re similar in a lot of ways… our stubbornness, playfulness, curiosity, and when needed, courage. For all his jumpiness and that “I think I just wet myself” expression he always carries around, when the time comes, Hiccup is one plucky little Viking.
Courage. Definitely takes some of that to be perched precariously on top of a rapidly moving Dragon executing complicated maneuvers hundreds of feet above ground in a snowstorm.
And it was a snowstorm. With each passing second the blustering sheets of snow grew denser. For my weathered Dragon eyes, it was no problem. Unfortunately, Hiccup’s eyes were not of the same mettle. How lucky I was to be born a Dragon! I thought to myself perhaps for the thousandth time since meeting Hiccup.
“I think we better bring it down, buddy!” Hiccup called through the arctic dervish. “I can’t see a thing!” I was ever reluctant to leave my native habitat, but Hiccup and I were a team. If he needed to land, we needed to land. That was that.
With a few deft machinations of those dexterous legs of his, he angled us downwards. I extended my wings, catching a slight downdraft and regulating our descent. The wind whipped the fat snowflakes into my wings, enveloping them in a pallid, nippy coat. As gently as possible, I navigated us into a clearing in between two of the towering mountains.
Oh, what’s the fun in ‘gently’? I asked myself mischievously. Without even a warning glance back at Hiccup, I retracted my wings to my chest, putting us into free fall for the last fifty odd feet of our descent. “Woah, woah, woahwoahwoah Toothless! Toothless, what are you doing!” Hiccup’s wails of panic were quickly drowned out by the sound of air rushing past my ears.
3… 2… 1… POOMF!
I plunged face first into a snow bank, the velocity driving me a couple feet into it. Chilly! I made an effort to extricate my head from the snow bank’s clutches, but I appeared to be stuck. Well, I guess this is pretty much wholly my fault, now isn’t it? I thought to myself sagely . Bracing with my legs, I pulled with all my strength… and with an explosion of powdery snow, I was free. I shook my head, sending flurries of snow dancing through the air.
Now let’s get this straight: I like snow well enough. Back where I was a wee hatchling we got a dusting every so often. I used to like playing in it, clearing the space near our nest with neat little pyro-blasts. But I’d never seen snow like they have here in Burck. Entire feet of the stuff! It takes some getting used to.
Hiccup? I looked around for him, but for all I could see I was alone in the white world. Wait... A telltale trail of ditches in the snow winded over to a remarkably Hiccup-esque hole in the snow. I giggled guiltily; from the looks of it he’d been thrown off me like a rag doll upon impact with the ground. Dazed, Hiccup slowly rose to his feet.
“TOOTHLESS!” He hollered in somewhat righteous anger. “What were you… I.. I could’ve been killed…” I smiled innocently. “I, you could’ve, I, toothless, I should, you useless reptile, I, Toothless you…!” he descended into a stream of gibberish. When his words finally failed him (Pff, that’s a first), he lifted up a chunk of snow and hurled it at me. In all honestly I had zoned out, waiting for his angry tirade to be over, so I was unprepared for his retaliation; the frosty projectile hit me square in the face. There’s that same aim that brought me down so long ago.
It goes without saying I couldn’t let this indignity go unpunished! I gnashed my teeth; my more pyrotechnic Dragon talents weren’t suited to this situation. While I briefly mulled over how best to exact my revenge, he drilled me in the ear with another ball of snow. The nerve of him! I’ll give him some of his own medicine! I reached down into the snow with my paws and attempted to pack it into a sphere the way he had. Unfortunately, four claws just aren’t optimal tools for packing snowballs. Frustratingly, I just seemed to slice through the snow I was trying to pack. My frustration mounted as I felt another snowball pelt my back scales, and my blood pressure started cooking when I overheard Hiccup’s victorious laughter. Looking up angrily I saw he had dropped to the ground, guffawing at my vain efforts.
Okay, you’re asking for it! I growled, pawing at the snow the way a bull paws at the dirt before it charges. Hiccup’s eyes briefly grew to dinner plate proportions before he began spitting out a steady stream of apologies and excuses. “No Toothless… down boy! Down boy! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! The one that hit your ear slipped, I swear, no, Toothless!” I crossed the distance between us with a few bounds and plucked him off the ground, carrying him well into the air in my paws. Yeah, now who’s laughing? With a smug bark of triumph, I whipped him back down into a snow bank. I glided back onto the ground just in time to see him dig his way out of the snow bank indignantly. “Oh, you’re such a comedian, Toothless,” he muttered grumpily. I nodded my head enthusiastically before approaching him in a swaggerful victory-strut.
“Yeah, yeah, boy…” he grumbled, shaking off the snow. Shivering, he hugged himself. “Getting sorta nippy out here…” he murmured through the falling snow. I let out a short growl of concern. If we couldn’t fly out in the snow, we would need to find some shelter. I gazed around, looking for a cave or grotto in the mountains where we could seek refuge. My keen eyes picked out a cave carved out of a mountain only a few hundred feet to our right. With a motion of my head, I explained I’d found shelter. He nodded thankfully, then followed me as I guided him through the near-whiteout. As Hiccup blindly followed me through the snowstorm, I appreciated yet again the depth of his trust in me. He put his life in my paws each time he flew with me… and I put my life in his. Our bond ran deeper than your average friendship; we truly depended on each other.
After a few minutes’ hike, we found ourselves in the mouth of the cave, saved from Mother Nature’s wintry wrath. The sun was beginning to set, the breathtaking wash of twilight colors just barely visible through the falling snow. “Looks like we’re in here for the night,” Hiccup sighed , taking a moment to brush all the snow off him. There was no point in me doing the same; even though it could get stuck in my scales, my fiery body temperature made quick work of it.
Curious, I loosed a blast into the cave to get a look at how big it was. It looked like it went back about fifty feet, and it was about as tall as a me-and-a-half. Not too big… but cozy. I’ve passed the night in worse places… maimed on that canyon floor foremost on the list.
I noticed Hiccup’s shivers. With a keen of concern, I swung my head over and examined him. Somewhat guiltily I realized it was probably my fault he was so cold, having dumped him in a snow bank and all. Knowing I had to make it up to him, I led him back to the end of the cave, farthest from the outside elements. With a sustained stream of purple-red fire, I got some semblance of a blaze going on the floor. “Thanks, Toothless,” Hiccup said gratefully. Oh, don’t thank me yet, big guy. I laid down next to the fire, and with a wing, swept the feet out from under Hiccup and hugged him close to me so he could share the warmth of the fire in my belly.
“Oof! Toothless!” he grunted in surprise.Yup! I thought to myself happily. Snuggles! Really a rather sweet and appreciative smile spread across Hiccup’s face. “Thanks, buddy. You make a good furnace in a pinch!” I do my best, I replied with a low purr.
Maybe it’s just because I’m a Dragon, but I’ll always love fire. The flickering light and shadow, the dancing sparks, the wild, untamed crackle and pop… We both stared into the heart of the flames for a while. I’m not sure, but I’ll bet we were both thinking of the same thing. About our forbidden friendship and what it would mean in the future. Could a Dragon and a Viking be friends? Would our races ever understand each other?
Before I’d met Hiccup, I would have stared at whatever Dragon had asked the question as it he had a third wing protruding from his you-know-where. The general consensus among my people was that humans were pretty much just brutes who attacked anything with wings and scales. I’m pretty sure Hiccup had thought the inverse, given the way he shot me down (have I mentioned that bitterly enough times yet?)
And yet we’d both found exceptions to the rules we made. With empathy, patience, and more than anything else simplygiving it a chance, a Dragon and a Viking were the two best friends that anyone could have.
I felt Hiccup’s head fall to rest against my chest; I glanced down to see him eyes shut, fast asleep. With a smile he had taught me, I wrapped my wings around him, forming a warm Dragon-cocoon for him to spend the night in.Good night, Hiccup. Don’t let the Nadders bite!With a yawn, I laid my heavy head to rest on my forelegs and let my mind drift off into strange and wonderful dreams.
Not So Fireproof
...You’re sure you don’t want any? I asked Hiccup with a keen look down at the regurgitated fish and then back up at him.
“Uh, no thanks! I’m good,” he replied. More for me, I suppose! I thought, peeking down affectionately at the pile of fish we’d procured from the ocean on the way. What can I say; I’m a natural borne fisher-Dragon.
And Hiccup wasn’t a bad fisher-Viking! I mean, he was a little shocked when I dunked the first time to dive for a fish (“Toothless are you insane?”) but once he figured out what was going on he wasn’t half had at helping guide us through the water towards our prey.
With an armful of fish to sustain us, we’d settled down on a rocky outcropping to the East of our home-base valley. Hiccup gathered a few sticks and arranged them to make a fire. I let his frustration at trying to get two rocks to spark mount for a few minutes before I motioned for him to stand back and ignited it with a whisper of blue flame. “Show off,” Hiccup muttered as we settled down to cook our… well, his fish. I prefer mine raw.
Not a bad spot, I mused, looking out over the open ocean. The sun was just leaning in to kiss the horizon goodnight; its last rays of warmth drizzled across the sky in pale orange and purple, with a few black speckles… Wait, what? Speckles… with wings. Typical. The Terrible Terrors. One sniff of a fresh catch and the most irritating members of the Dragon world will descend out of nowhere to mooch.
Honestly, the ‘Terrible Terrors’ as Hiccup calls them are like… like… Mosquitos? Both in the size factor and the irritation factor. And the brain size factor, can’t forget that one. Hard to believe they’re in the same species family me; frankly there are times that’s worried me a bit. And now a little pack of them were buzzing on over uninvited, looking for food to pilfer.
Not from my Viking and I! With a deep growl whose meaning could not possibly have been misunderstood, I wrapped my arms around our pile of fish protectively. In trademark Terror fashion, they ignored my warning and closed in. I snapped at the first red one that got close enough, sending him fleeing with his tail between his legs. Am I not being clear here? Apparently I wasn’t, because when I looked over one of the little green buggers had gotten a hold of one of my fish. Once he’d fled to a safe distance, he sat up tall with his ‘kill’, treating me to a victorious taunt. The nerve!
He was so busy with his little jeer he almost let the red one grab it from right under his nose. Pawing at the ground like a bull ready to charge, Greeny exhaled a short burst of flame, enough to send the red one scurrying for the second time in so many minutes. I heard a stifled giggle from Hiccup beside me.
Distracted by their scene, I nearly missed the fish walking out of the pile, something that normal fish just don’t do all that often. Before he could make his getaway, I chomped down on the fish, halting the diminutive dragon in his tracks. A tug of war between a Night Fury and a Terrible Terror is a remarkably short one. I yanked the morsel out of his mouth, sending him flying onto his backside. Before his bewildered eyes, I swallowed it whole and snickered obnoxiously.
Cue the macho display. He stomped on the ground, sending minute plumes of dust into the air and a glib smirk across my snout. He drew a deep breath, ready to unleash a white hot and, to me, thoroughly harmless bout of flames. Oh, nonono! Just as he opened his mouth to exhale, I whistled a tiny ball of flame down his throat, sending his tiny body careening into the air only to land squarely on his face. I hope you learned your lesson.
Dazed, he wandered over to Hiccup. “Not so fireproof on the inside, are you?” Hiccup noted. “Here you go,” Hiccup said kindly, throwing a fish down in front of him. Unbelievable. What a con. I shook my head at Hiccup’s naivety. The little dragon eagerly snapped up the fish and swallowed it in one bite (sort of an impressive feat for a dragon that size!). Regarding Hiccup as if he were his long lost friend, the Terror scuttled over to my Viking and curled up underneath his arm, purring loudly. Nice acting , I grumbled internally; for Hiccup’s sake I pretended I didn’t know it was merely a ploy for further treats.
Hesitantly, Hiccup reached down to pet the pocket-sized Dragon. “Everything we know about you guys… is wrong!” he realized out loud.
A bit dramatic, I thought to myself as I returned my attention to the pressing matter of the tasty pile of fish in front of me. But… true nonetheless. And if one Viking could realize that… perhaps the rest of them could get it through their stone-thick heads as well. Otherwise… I glanced over at Hiccup. Otherwise, our forbidden friendship might be short lived.
Thanks for reading! ^^
Test Drive
Being back in the sky felt like finally being alive again.
The glorious sensation of gliding, carving through the plumes of clouds and drifting through the airstreams returned to me a vivacity lost since Hiccup maimed me.
Funny, I chuckled to myself, when I was hit I was terrified at the thought just what horrific beast could have downed me like that… In truth it was a scrawny Viking nobody. And now, it was my scrawny Viking nobody. Sure, at first I hated the little guy. I mean, he blew off half my tail, tangled me up and left me sitting in the middle of a clearing for a night to make friends with the local wildlife. But I have to admit, he surprised me when he set me free. I was so thankful I expressed my rage by yelling a long obscenity at him rather than pounding his face into casserole.
And since then, I’ve even developed a little nub of affection for him. He sort of reminds me of a human, awkward version of me. He’s pretty clever and he’s got a spirit in him unlike the other humans. He even figured out how to fix my tail, although there are still a few kinks to be ironed out.
And that was what today was all about: a test drive. Although I wasn’t too excited about it, flying was no longer going to be a solo deal. We’d become symbiotic: I needed him controlling half of my rudder. He’d come up with some bizarre system for communicating just what he was doing back there; If only there was a way to let him know that I can feel everything he’s doing and he’s really just making himself sound silly. Oh well.
That familiar nasally but friendly voice drifted down from my back to my ears, “Okay there, bud, we’re gonna take this nice and slow,” he reassured me. I rolled my eyes to myself. Nice and slow is not how I like to fly, I thought to myself impatiently.
His fumbling murmurs whipped past in the wind, “Here we go, oh, here we go, uh… Position three, no… four,” he finished indecisively, looking back and deliberately shifting my tail into an updraft-glide position.
Spreading my wings and rudder flaps flap, I felt the strength of the warm current of air cushioning my underbelly and keeping me airborne. We skated through the air effortlessly. I felt Hiccup lurch in the saddle a few times when the current shifted. Hey, be careful up there! If you fall, I’m falling with you!
“Aright, it’s go time, it’s go time,” Hiccup said as much to himself as to me as he shifted me forward into a dive.
I shook out my wings and let a joyful, primal grin climb across my face. Now you’re talking!
Forbidden Friendship
I looked down from my perch to see Hiccup shuffling about nervously. Of course, I’d heard him coming a while ago so it was no surprise. But I hadn’t heard the fish.
Now I had run into a bit of a dilemma. It was awfully tempting for me to rip him limb from limb and stain the pond red with his blood and then eat my fish in peace. But something inside me squirmed at the thought. Perhaps it was because he had spared me earlier? That must be it, I convinced myself.
I skulked down from my perch silently; I was halfway to the ground when Hiccup turned and nearly dropped the fish in fright. Feeling slightly better, I dropped to the ground and circled him, appraising him with a withering glare. You are going to give me that fish, I said with my eyes.
Hiccup timidly offered me the fish, holding it out as far from his body as he could. Yeah, that’s more like it, I smirked to myself. I betrayed none of my pleasure, however. I stared him down fiercely as I inched closer. I was so close… I was almost intoxicated by the scent of fresh fish drifting through my nose… Then I leapt back, loosing a threatening growl: I smelled metal.
With a look of fear, Hiccup opened his vest, revealing the offending dagger. No, you get the hell rid of that! I snarled. ]Hiccup seemed to understand my sentiments and dropped it to the ground as if it were poison he was trying to rid himself of. With a jerk of my head and a growl I explained I wanted it gone. He complied, throwing it into the lake with a rather dexterous display with his feet.
As the metal sank into the depths of the pond, I raised up out of my hostile stance into an inquisitive crouch. He trusts me enough to leave me at his mercy, I noted with interest. I flicked my ear in curiosity. Well, I’m sure it’ll all make more sense on a full stomach, I decided as he held out the fish once more. I prowled closer to his hand and opened wide, trying to angle myself so that I could minimalize the number of his fingers that would come along with the fish.
“Toothless…” I heard him murmur. “I could have sworn you had…” Teeth? I cut him off by unsheathing my teeth and wrenching the fish out of his hand. I swallowed it whole in one bite. Aaaah, fresh fish. Nothing better. “Teeth.” Hiccup finished lamely. With the fish distraction out of the equation, I turned my whole attention to the puny Viking that had been so much trouble.
Hiccup seemed rather alarmed at this development. “Uh, no, no, no!” he spewed as he backed away from me until he ran into a rock, halting his progress. “I don’t have anymore!” he apologized as I scrutinized him closely, practically pinning him to the rock.
Really? This is what I got hunted by? It was my first chance to have a good up close look, and boy, there was not much to see. He was about a tenth the size of his fellow Viking men and he lacked any hair on the face that they seemed to regard as a sign of strength and manhood.
Still… unlike them he didn’t kill me on sight. I guess he’s not all bad, I concluded. But if he’s that thin he must need all the food he can find… With a start I realized I felt a bit guilty at chowing down on what had to be some of this Viking’s only food. With a strange sort of gurgling chortle, I courteously regurgitated half the meal onto his lap. Then, satisfied I had done the right thing, I settled back onto my haunches to wait for him to eat it.
As I backed away from him he seemed to calm down. His dinner plate eyes began to shrink down to size and he started breathing normally again. He looked up at me with an expression of confusion.
And I stared back.
And he stared at me.
And I stared back.
He turned away awkwardly for a moment, the looked back with a sort of tired look in his eyes. Why, it’s for you! I explained, looking down at the fish then up at him again. In a panic, Hiccup mirrored my gesture, then sighed, glancing down at the fish reluctantly. Steeling himself, he slowly bit into the fish, then signaled his approval with a “mmmm!” sound.
My ears perked up in delight. He tried to offer it back to me. Oh no, I couldn’t. It’s all for you! I insisted, mimicking swallowing to explain that he should have the whole thing.
With an effort, Hiccup forced the fish down his gullet with a shiver; That must be the human way to show something tastes good! I deduced, smacking my lips to mirror his sentiment. He then generously showed me his teeth! From the small bits of human culture I was familiar with, I understood this to be a sign of happiness. What a peculiar custom, I thought to myself as I tried to morph my mouth into the bizarre shape. I felt exceedingly goofy.
He seemed empowered by my clumsy grin; he slowly raised himself up. He reached out his hand towards me: I saw it coming closer… then closer… then too close. My defensive instincts kicked in; after all, this was the hand that had brought me down! With a snarl, I leapt away from him. Unfortunately, my instincts had inconveniently forgotten that I couldn’t fly. I flailed through the air in vain for a few seconds before crashing back to the ground on the other side of the canyon.
Shaking it off, I circled around what was to be my den for the night. C’mon now, things were going so well, why did he have to do that? I lamented to myself as I roasted the ground beneath me; I always did like a warm, cozy bed.
Just as I settled my head down, a shrill note from the bird nesting above attracted my attention. I watched longingly as it flew away. You never appreciate things until they’re gone, I thought to myself. I missed the sky’s embrace like another misses her wayward child. In a way, the sky was that mother, and I its lost newborn.
Oh. You again, I thought in irritation as the Viking seemed to materialize in front of me. Sitting in an awfully awkward looking cross-legged position, he gave a reassuring smile and friendly wave.
Yeah, sure, buddy, I said through no subtle body language. Talk to the tail, I grumbled internally, putting up a barrier of scaly flesh between me and the irksome Viking. Moments later, I sensed his hand coming dangerously close to my tail. I whipped up my tail to confront him just as he sprung backwards, walking and whistling his innocence. Enough is enough, I thought, annoyed, as I padded away. That ‘tear his limbs from his body and use his bones as toothpicks’ plan was sounding awfully tempting. With a leap and some clambering, I draped myself over a branch and cocooned myself with my wings. The world was too much for me at the moment; it was time for a dragon-nap.
A few hours must have passed until I woke up, because when I blinked open my eyes the sky held the telltale evening shades of warm indigo and magenta. My gaze drifted upon the outline of my Viking visitor. Still here? I tilted my head in surprise.
As quietly as can a dragon do so, I lumbered over and peered over his shoulder. He seemed a bit perturbed at my doing so, although he did his best to hide it. He was using a stick to draw shapes in the dirt.... Not just any shapes, I realized. He’s sketching a portrait of me! Why, I’m flattered! It was a rather clever idea, really. We used to do the same thing on with our fireballs I had never thought of doing it with a stick before. Eager to give this method a test drive, I bounded to the nearest sapling and tore it free from its roots.
Brimming with enthusiasm, I tried to get a good grip on it with my teeth. It had sort of a pleasant pine taste to it, I noted. As I always did, I let my instincts dictate my movements. Soon, I was weaving what must have seemed to the Viking to be a bizarre and sloppy mishmash of lines. In my excitement I accidentally bashed him over the head with my oversized utensil, but he was watching with such rapt attention that I don’t even think he noticed. When I was finished, I took a step back and nodded, satisfied with my work.
Clearly curious as to the method behind my madness, he stood up, examining the peculiar drawing. He was so preoccupied he stepped on one of my lines! The height of disrespect! I was not one to let someone just stomp on my art; I let him know just how I felt! With a wince, the Viking boy hastily retracted his step. I purred my approval. Then the Viking repeated his actions! The nerve! I one again informed him in no uncertain terms to look, not touch. He retracted his steps, to which I once again sanctioned, and then he set down on the lines again! Okay, one more time and I swear plan ‘cook him with a fireball and use his body as the stick’ is going to be a go, I warned, growling louder than ever. Finally, he tired with the game and stepped over the line. I rewarded him with an extra loud purr of contentment.
From there it was like watching a weird and wonderful dance as Hiccup weaved his way through my lines, taking great care (bless him!) not to trample my work again. I watched with delight as the lines took him exactly where I had designed them to. With a huff of my breath, I gently let him know I was right behind him, his small mane of hair rippling gently from the gust of air. Slowly and painstakingly, Hiccup turned to face me. I looked at him then, truly, for the first time and saw not only a Viking but a kindred spirit not so different from mine. I stared deep into his hazel eyes, reassuring him and telling him he knew what to do.
With an expression of wonder, Hiccup reached out his hand towards me. No, I said, then repeated more firmly when he tried a second time. Momentarily stymied, he looked down. Then realizing what I wanted, he kept his head staring at the ground but gradually, tenderly, and more than anything trustingly extended his hand towards me. With that hand was the trust that I wouldn’t attack him, bite his hand off, or even run away. I gazed at him dead on, and I realized there was more to this Viking than I could have imagined when I first saw him. I closed my eyes and leaned my head in, linking my snout to his hand for an eternal second. When eternity had passed, I removed my snout, shook off the moment, and sped away, leaving the Viking with his thoughts and the memory.
Warmth in the Cold
For the love of the skies, it seems like it snows nine months around here… and hails the other three! I complained to myself as Hiccup and I carved the peculiar shape of a Dragon and rider through the cascades of falling snow.
We’d been taking more and more ambitious flights. After our first test flight, Hiccup had more than proved himself to me as a capable navigator. Honestly, after making it out of that maze of rocks I felt pretty much invincible; all of our other excursions had been smooth sailing in comparison. This was our farthest one yet; we were surrounded by the sprawling, white tipped mountains of Northern “burck” as Hiccup called it.
Aaaah, Hiccup. My little Viking. My awkward, goofy, smart-yet-supid little Viking. We’d gone from prey and predator to predator and prey to cautious partners to real friends. That little seed of affection planted when he most charitably deigned not to kill me had sprouted into a close companionship. To me, Hiccup was sort of the little brother I never had. Sure, I spent plenty of our time together rolling my eyes as he tried to descend through an updraft, or saving his skinny Viking butt from the Gronckle he just inadvertently ticked off. But… he felt like family to me. We understood each other, and like I’ve mentioned before we’re similar in a lot of ways… our stubbornness, playfulness, curiosity, and when needed, courage. For all his jumpiness and that “I think I just wet myself” expression he always carries around, when the time comes, Hiccup is one plucky little Viking.
Courage. Definitely takes some of that to be perched precariously on top of a rapidly moving Dragon executing complicated maneuvers hundreds of feet above ground in a snowstorm.
And it was a snowstorm. With each passing second the blustering sheets of snow grew denser. For my weathered Dragon eyes, it was no problem. Unfortunately, Hiccup’s eyes were not of the same mettle. How lucky I was to be born a Dragon! I thought to myself perhaps for the thousandth time since meeting Hiccup.
“I think we better bring it down, buddy!” Hiccup called through the arctic dervish. “I can’t see a thing!” I was ever reluctant to leave my native habitat, but Hiccup and I were a team. If he needed to land, we needed to land. That was that.
With a few deft machinations of those dexterous legs of his, he angled us downwards. I extended my wings, catching a slight downdraft and regulating our descent. The wind whipped the fat snowflakes into my wings, enveloping them in a pallid, nippy coat. As gently as possible, I navigated us into a clearing in between two of the towering mountains.
Oh, what’s the fun in ‘gently’? I asked myself mischievously. Without even a warning glance back at Hiccup, I retracted my wings to my chest, putting us into free fall for the last fifty odd feet of our descent. “Woah, woah, woahwoahwoah Toothless! Toothless, what are you doing!” Hiccup’s wails of panic were quickly drowned out by the sound of air rushing past my ears.
3… 2… 1… POOMF!
I plunged face first into a snow bank, the velocity driving me a couple feet into it. Chilly! I made an effort to extricate my head from the snow bank’s clutches, but I appeared to be stuck. Well, I guess this is pretty much wholly my fault, now isn’t it? I thought to myself sagely . Bracing with my legs, I pulled with all my strength… and with an explosion of powdery snow, I was free. I shook my head, sending flurries of snow dancing through the air.
Now let’s get this straight: I like snow well enough. Back where I was a wee hatchling we got a dusting every so often. I used to like playing in it, clearing the space near our nest with neat little pyro-blasts. But I’d never seen snow like they have here in Burck. Entire feet of the stuff! It takes some getting used to.
Hiccup? I looked around for him, but for all I could see I was alone in the white world. Wait... A telltale trail of ditches in the snow winded over to a remarkably Hiccup-esque hole in the snow. I giggled guiltily; from the looks of it he’d been thrown off me like a rag doll upon impact with the ground. Dazed, Hiccup slowly rose to his feet.
“TOOTHLESS!” He hollered in somewhat righteous anger. “What were you… I.. I could’ve been killed…” I smiled innocently. “I, you could’ve, I, toothless, I should, you useless reptile, I, Toothless you…!” he descended into a stream of gibberish. When his words finally failed him (Pff, that’s a first), he lifted up a chunk of snow and hurled it at me. In all honestly I had zoned out, waiting for his angry tirade to be over, so I was unprepared for his retaliation; the frosty projectile hit me square in the face. There’s that same aim that brought me down so long ago.
It goes without saying I couldn’t let this indignity go unpunished! I gnashed my teeth; my more pyrotechnic Dragon talents weren’t suited to this situation. While I briefly mulled over how best to exact my revenge, he drilled me in the ear with another ball of snow. The nerve of him! I’ll give him some of his own medicine! I reached down into the snow with my paws and attempted to pack it into a sphere the way he had. Unfortunately, four claws just aren’t optimal tools for packing snowballs. Frustratingly, I just seemed to slice through the snow I was trying to pack. My frustration mounted as I felt another snowball pelt my back scales, and my blood pressure started cooking when I overheard Hiccup’s victorious laughter. Looking up angrily I saw he had dropped to the ground, guffawing at my vain efforts.
Okay, you’re asking for it! I growled, pawing at the snow the way a bull paws at the dirt before it charges. Hiccup’s eyes briefly grew to dinner plate proportions before he began spitting out a steady stream of apologies and excuses. “No Toothless… down boy! Down boy! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! The one that hit your ear slipped, I swear, no, Toothless!” I crossed the distance between us with a few bounds and plucked him off the ground, carrying him well into the air in my paws. Yeah, now who’s laughing? With a smug bark of triumph, I whipped him back down into a snow bank. I glided back onto the ground just in time to see him dig his way out of the snow bank indignantly. “Oh, you’re such a comedian, Toothless,” he muttered grumpily. I nodded my head enthusiastically before approaching him in a swaggerful victory-strut.
“Yeah, yeah, boy…” he grumbled, shaking off the snow. Shivering, he hugged himself. “Getting sorta nippy out here…” he murmured through the falling snow. I let out a short growl of concern. If we couldn’t fly out in the snow, we would need to find some shelter. I gazed around, looking for a cave or grotto in the mountains where we could seek refuge. My keen eyes picked out a cave carved out of a mountain only a few hundred feet to our right. With a motion of my head, I explained I’d found shelter. He nodded thankfully, then followed me as I guided him through the near-whiteout. As Hiccup blindly followed me through the snowstorm, I appreciated yet again the depth of his trust in me. He put his life in my paws each time he flew with me… and I put my life in his. Our bond ran deeper than your average friendship; we truly depended on each other.
After a few minutes’ hike, we found ourselves in the mouth of the cave, saved from Mother Nature’s wintry wrath. The sun was beginning to set, the breathtaking wash of twilight colors just barely visible through the falling snow. “Looks like we’re in here for the night,” Hiccup sighed , taking a moment to brush all the snow off him. There was no point in me doing the same; even though it could get stuck in my scales, my fiery body temperature made quick work of it.
Curious, I loosed a blast into the cave to get a look at how big it was. It looked like it went back about fifty feet, and it was about as tall as a me-and-a-half. Not too big… but cozy. I’ve passed the night in worse places… maimed on that canyon floor foremost on the list.
I noticed Hiccup’s shivers. With a keen of concern, I swung my head over and examined him. Somewhat guiltily I realized it was probably my fault he was so cold, having dumped him in a snow bank and all. Knowing I had to make it up to him, I led him back to the end of the cave, farthest from the outside elements. With a sustained stream of purple-red fire, I got some semblance of a blaze going on the floor. “Thanks, Toothless,” Hiccup said gratefully. Oh, don’t thank me yet, big guy. I laid down next to the fire, and with a wing, swept the feet out from under Hiccup and hugged him close to me so he could share the warmth of the fire in my belly.
“Oof! Toothless!” he grunted in surprise.Yup! I thought to myself happily. Snuggles! Really a rather sweet and appreciative smile spread across Hiccup’s face. “Thanks, buddy. You make a good furnace in a pinch!” I do my best, I replied with a low purr.
Maybe it’s just because I’m a Dragon, but I’ll always love fire. The flickering light and shadow, the dancing sparks, the wild, untamed crackle and pop… We both stared into the heart of the flames for a while. I’m not sure, but I’ll bet we were both thinking of the same thing. About our forbidden friendship and what it would mean in the future. Could a Dragon and a Viking be friends? Would our races ever understand each other?
Before I’d met Hiccup, I would have stared at whatever Dragon had asked the question as it he had a third wing protruding from his you-know-where. The general consensus among my people was that humans were pretty much just brutes who attacked anything with wings and scales. I’m pretty sure Hiccup had thought the inverse, given the way he shot me down (have I mentioned that bitterly enough times yet?)
And yet we’d both found exceptions to the rules we made. With empathy, patience, and more than anything else simplygiving it a chance, a Dragon and a Viking were the two best friends that anyone could have.
I felt Hiccup’s head fall to rest against my chest; I glanced down to see him eyes shut, fast asleep. With a smile he had taught me, I wrapped my wings around him, forming a warm Dragon-cocoon for him to spend the night in.Good night, Hiccup. Don’t let the Nadders bite!With a yawn, I laid my heavy head to rest on my forelegs and let my mind drift off into strange and wonderful dreams.
Not So Fireproof
...You’re sure you don’t want any? I asked Hiccup with a keen look down at the regurgitated fish and then back up at him.
“Uh, no thanks! I’m good,” he replied. More for me, I suppose! I thought, peeking down affectionately at the pile of fish we’d procured from the ocean on the way. What can I say; I’m a natural borne fisher-Dragon.
And Hiccup wasn’t a bad fisher-Viking! I mean, he was a little shocked when I dunked the first time to dive for a fish (“Toothless are you insane?”) but once he figured out what was going on he wasn’t half had at helping guide us through the water towards our prey.
With an armful of fish to sustain us, we’d settled down on a rocky outcropping to the East of our home-base valley. Hiccup gathered a few sticks and arranged them to make a fire. I let his frustration at trying to get two rocks to spark mount for a few minutes before I motioned for him to stand back and ignited it with a whisper of blue flame. “Show off,” Hiccup muttered as we settled down to cook our… well, his fish. I prefer mine raw.
Not a bad spot, I mused, looking out over the open ocean. The sun was just leaning in to kiss the horizon goodnight; its last rays of warmth drizzled across the sky in pale orange and purple, with a few black speckles… Wait, what? Speckles… with wings. Typical. The Terrible Terrors. One sniff of a fresh catch and the most irritating members of the Dragon world will descend out of nowhere to mooch.
Honestly, the ‘Terrible Terrors’ as Hiccup calls them are like… like… Mosquitos? Both in the size factor and the irritation factor. And the brain size factor, can’t forget that one. Hard to believe they’re in the same species family me; frankly there are times that’s worried me a bit. And now a little pack of them were buzzing on over uninvited, looking for food to pilfer.
Not from my Viking and I! With a deep growl whose meaning could not possibly have been misunderstood, I wrapped my arms around our pile of fish protectively. In trademark Terror fashion, they ignored my warning and closed in. I snapped at the first red one that got close enough, sending him fleeing with his tail between his legs. Am I not being clear here? Apparently I wasn’t, because when I looked over one of the little green buggers had gotten a hold of one of my fish. Once he’d fled to a safe distance, he sat up tall with his ‘kill’, treating me to a victorious taunt. The nerve!
He was so busy with his little jeer he almost let the red one grab it from right under his nose. Pawing at the ground like a bull ready to charge, Greeny exhaled a short burst of flame, enough to send the red one scurrying for the second time in so many minutes. I heard a stifled giggle from Hiccup beside me.
Distracted by their scene, I nearly missed the fish walking out of the pile, something that normal fish just don’t do all that often. Before he could make his getaway, I chomped down on the fish, halting the diminutive dragon in his tracks. A tug of war between a Night Fury and a Terrible Terror is a remarkably short one. I yanked the morsel out of his mouth, sending him flying onto his backside. Before his bewildered eyes, I swallowed it whole and snickered obnoxiously.
Cue the macho display. He stomped on the ground, sending minute plumes of dust into the air and a glib smirk across my snout. He drew a deep breath, ready to unleash a white hot and, to me, thoroughly harmless bout of flames. Oh, nonono! Just as he opened his mouth to exhale, I whistled a tiny ball of flame down his throat, sending his tiny body careening into the air only to land squarely on his face. I hope you learned your lesson.
Dazed, he wandered over to Hiccup. “Not so fireproof on the inside, are you?” Hiccup noted. “Here you go,” Hiccup said kindly, throwing a fish down in front of him. Unbelievable. What a con. I shook my head at Hiccup’s naivety. The little dragon eagerly snapped up the fish and swallowed it in one bite (sort of an impressive feat for a dragon that size!). Regarding Hiccup as if he were his long lost friend, the Terror scuttled over to my Viking and curled up underneath his arm, purring loudly. Nice acting , I grumbled internally; for Hiccup’s sake I pretended I didn’t know it was merely a ploy for further treats.
Hesitantly, Hiccup reached down to pet the pocket-sized Dragon. “Everything we know about you guys… is wrong!” he realized out loud.
A bit dramatic, I thought to myself as I returned my attention to the pressing matter of the tasty pile of fish in front of me. But… true nonetheless. And if one Viking could realize that… perhaps the rest of them could get it through their stone-thick heads as well. Otherwise… I glanced over at Hiccup. Otherwise, our forbidden friendship might be short lived.
Thanks for reading! ^^