Hello there, azurethedragon aspiring video game designer, novice story writer, and guy that loves to draw here. The following story is something I wrote one afternoon after watching How to Train Your Dragon. It is my first fan fic, but don't give me any special treatment because of that. I normally write stories all the time so please don't hold back.

Also, this is suppose to be from Toothless's point of view.

I do not own How to Train Your Dragon or anything like that. I mean honestly, if I did own anything like that would I be writing a fan fic?

Anyway, enjoy and give feedback...if you want...

The Dragon's Nest

The peas-soup-fog settled down on the basil-sand beach. Chile-pepper-lava gently oozed from the earth's interior and down the side of the craggy oregano-granite volcano.

Roars could be heard from the depths of the caverns that dotted the volcano like warts. I never ventured in there. A monster slept in there, with six periwinkle slits for eyes, a hulking mass that would have sight-seers mistake it for a small mountain from a distance, and steel armor-like plating that made it impossible to even scratch the skin.

While I was outside, everyone else slept in the bowels-of-the-earth-warmth. Rotten-egg-smoke softly lulled everyone into a mindless slumber, red whiffs of embers coaxing them in a warm blanket of inferno-lullabies. Each lying on the scorched black floor of their home, a cliff on the interior of the volcanic crater. The crater was an abyss, with pale red fog rolling out of it like a fog machine on Halloween, and all the cliffs ascended from this abyss like the rows in the Orange Bowl Stadium.

This was my home. There were many names for it, but I called it helhiem. Others called it the dragon's nest.

I am a night fury, which many claim to be the unholy offspring of lightening and death. I had a shark face that was rounded to look more playful than the infamous great white; my body was panther-like; wings of a large bat adorned my back; and I possessed the tail of a salamander. Small torn-like spikes made a line down my back, just enough to irritate someone foolish enough to jump on my back but not harm them. Some said I had puppy-dog-ears, but I think they said that to keep me on their good side considering all they ever saw were the hate-filled slits of my monster-in-the-closet-green eyes.

No one really liked me here because no one wanted to be associated with the unholy offspring of lightening and death. Feared for humans because of my stealth, accuracy, and power, and shunned by dragons for fear of being a demon. I didn't fit in anywhere I went.

And then there was the flight issue of mine. Along with being blessed with the idea of being a demon, I was given the gift of missing one tail flap. I couldn't fly like the other dragons, most of take off attempts were clumsy at best. I always had to be helped up into the air, so I could at least fly with some altitude behind me. Once in the air, everyone knew I was something not to be taken lightly, with the accuracy of a sniper rifle and the power of a H-bomb behind me. My violet grenade-like fireballs never missed and packed enough of a punch to level entire village. With unparalleled speed, I was never seen, and the inky blackness of my body ensured that I was as stealth as my panther brethren.

Never seen and never heard until it was too late. That much I have to be thankful for, I could at least be a distraction as the others gathered the sheep from the field and fish from the storehouse. That was all I was viewed as on the battlefield, a distraction to be used. If I landed to attempt to steal food or fight, my clumsy attempts at rising and belly flops back to the ground would get my hacked off and mounted on the wall.

Here, I didn't have to think about such things. This spot on the beach was what I considered my home, overlooking the imposing rocks that protruded from the sea like tentacles of the Kraken. Lodged in between two of the rocks was a Viking galley, a standard ship with the usual set of six to eight oars, mast with the symbol of swords stabbing a wind drake, and the feral golden head of a sea serpent at the front. This place also the spot where I made my first kill.

Looking at the destroyed galley, I can still hear the ungodly screams of the unfortunate humans that got too close to us. The look of terror in their eyes, they knew what was coming and couldn't do a thing I about it. It made my knees turn to jelly and had to look away to not see the hellfire that consumed their skin, cooking them alive like lobster. Thinking about it makes me feel slightly nauseous, which never made sense to me considering I'm a dragon-a thing that is suppose to kill with no remorse! Yet here I am, still repenting and hoping that Thor protected their souls at their death.

Another reason why I would never land during raids on the human village was that I could not handle killing any more humans. They're just defending their home from us, and we must all seem like hell spawn demons to them. Sure launching a few fireballs probably would harm a few humans, not murder them like I did that day.

"Night Fury!" I heard a nails-scraping-on-chalkboard voice call me. They didn't bother to give me a name, that's how much they didn't want to associate with me.

The dragon that had called my name was a what the humans called a nightmare. Its lower jaw was bigger than its upper, showing row upon row of dagger teeth. The face was alligator like; the eyes a ripe banana yellow. He walked awkwardly, with balancing on the tips of his bat-like wings and pushing himself forward using his muscular hind legs that seemed out of place on such a slender body. Spikes covered the body like chicken pox and had maroon Komodo dragon skin that alert everyone to his presence.

I noticed above his left eye was a square scar, the perfect size for a large hammer-a favorite weapon of the humans. Oh Odin no! Not this dragon! This nightmare was the same foolhardy nightmare that always went after the chief of the human settlement, a powerful man named Stoic the Vast. He had a large red-haired beard that was done in knots and had enough muscle behind him that he looked more like a moving rock than a man. His voice was deep and commanding, though you could tell that he was caring about his kind then the Great One, the monster that inhabited the depths of that volcano.

Actually he would go after anyone whom he deemed a powerful opponent, and Stoic always offered him a good fight. I'm not sure wither it's a good or bad thing that Stoic always won those fights, though, but at least he always returned alive.

"Night Fury!" the nightmare growled. He was getting impatient, and no one likes a nightmare when they're angry because they're the only ones brave (or stupid) enough to lit themselves on fire, the blaze flowing off of them as the fog that surrounds dry ice does.

"What do you want?" I growled back. I wasn't in the mood to go fly some hundred miles to distract the humans as the others stole their food supplies. It be different if they at least gave some food so I could offer it to the Great One so he wouldn't try to eat me and could at least have a place to stay for the night, other than the spot on the beach I'm normally at.

"The Great One demands more, and the humans are on high alert because it's getting close to winter. We need you to take out the watch tower," brashly replied, not caring that it was obvious that I didn't want to go.

"Sounds to me like another worthless hundred mile where I shoot a few things and return empty-handed, as usual," I irritably retorted.

Unfazed by my comment or attitude, he growled, "You will be coming with us Night Fury! Unholy demon of lightening and death or not, we need you!"

I snorted at the bluntness of his request. I wasn't going to go off on another escapade where I would just shoot at things from afar, as they took whatever they want and got to sleep in the warmth of the volcano. It was starting to get frostbite cold this time of year and I would at least like one night away from the impending blizzards that would soon ravage the near-arctic environment. Nor would I want to give my meal to that monster! Our lives would get infinitely better if the Great One was out of the picture all together, but no one would listen to me, a night fury.

The nightmare just glared at me for a good en minutes straight. His unnerving stare eventually won me over, consenting if he would allow me to at least bring home one sheep or something that would get me away from the cold.

Smirking, he retorted, "You'll have to catch yourself, just like all the other times."

Despite what I said, I did try to catch sheep before, though not in the village because I would die in seconds there. Some sheep straggled away from the herd in the chaos of the attack, and that was what I tried to go after. However, the humans had an unskilled equivalent to a night fury.

The boy had to be in his teens, always tweaking a large barrel cannon that would fire large net that was suppose to strangle a dragon's wings. The first time I tried to catch a sheep, he barely hit me, the net not hitting my wings or body, but my face and knocking me out. I woke up on the beach that morning, whoever my savior was never revealed themselves to me. The second time, it grazed my body and hit a nightmare and caused the enraged dragon to rampage through the village, spilling vicious fire-lava all over the village and ruining the kills. The last time, he caught my legs, and snapped them in two. I couldn't stand up for a week, and couldn't walk properly for at least another month.

Of course my chances of catching a sheep were near negligible, but that wouldn't stop me. Dragons are proud creatures, filled with pride (or stubbornness), and would never admit defeat. So of course I growled, "Not this time!"

"Uh-huh, sure you are," he sarcastically mocked, "Just let me know when you draw out that human. I'd love to see how much of a fight he'd put up."

"Sure, why not?" I combated. We were about to go on, but I noticed that other dragons started to surround us. They were all murmuring to themselves, probably about what was going between the two of us. I sighed, as I walked away and prepared myself for another long flight. I could only hope this time it wouldn't be fruitless.