I

Merida

"And above all else, my Mother lectures. "The Clan Dunbroch-"

"Never associates with Berk, Ah know, ah know," I mutter. "Are we done yet?"

"Merida!" My Mother scolds. I resist the impending urge to roll my eyes. "A lady-"

"Please?" I plead, ignoring her disappointed and exasperated look. I stare her down impatiently until she nods, albeit reluctantly.

"Thank's Mother!" I say before sprinting out the door, snatching my bow and arrow on my way out. Without missing a beat, I leap onto Angus and gallop off into the forest, the rhythmic thumping of our progress doing little to ease my irritation. My teeth come together in a clench. What was I, two? I'd heard it all, Vikings and Scots are bitter enemies, never, under any circumstance interact with vikings except to do one very simple thing. Kill them.

The blood feud has been going on for over 200 years, I guess we really do know how to hold a grudge. Personally, I found the whole thing kind of ridiculous, but as my Mother says, old habits die hard. Besides, I had bigger problems.

But enough of that. I couldn't let my problems infect my sparse free time as well as outside of it. I place an arrow on my bow and, quick as thought, let it fly. It the hits the center of the target, quivering, the metallic end and feather gleaming mysteriously in the sunlight.

I quickly pick off the rest of the targets and wheel Angus to a stop, inhaling deeply. The fresh pine and dirt pulls my senses into sharper focus, as I cherish my new found freedom.

Like all good things, it didn't last.

A rustling from nearby causes Angus to skitter back as I draw my bow to my cheek, breathing shallowly.

A rather thin looking boy clothed in fur and awkward looking boots stumbles into view. Angus rears as I prepare to fire.

"Whoa!" the boy exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "I won't hurt you!"

"Wot," I snort. "Like ah toothpick like yeh could hurt meh?" The boy looks slightly offended.

"Well someone's got a high opinion of themselves," he mutters. "And fine, maybe I can't. But Toothless can."

"Who is-" A midnight black beast soars into view, leaving my words to trail off. "Ah dragon?" I ask, aghast. "Ah thought those weren't-" I shake my head, clearing my mind. Not important.

"Toothless will defend me if anyone attacks," the boy says, making his meaning clear.

"Are yeh threateneing meh?" I snap.

"No," the boy says innocently. "But my dragon is. We got off on the wrong start." He extends his hand, clearly waiting for a handshake. "I'm Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III." His name resounds through my brain. Hiccup. The chief's son. The chief of Berk. My Mother's last words echo in my head as, eyes narrowed, I release the arrow.