Disclaimer: No matter how much I want to, I do not own Toothless or anything else mentioned in this story.
"Night Fury! Get down!" I can't get enough of hearing those words of warning. Like the sweet sound of rushing air to my ears.
I zero in on a catapult and prepared myself for the dive. Wrapping myself in my wings, I begin to freefall. The high-pitched whine that I can never seem to suppress warns the viking manning it. I let my fireball loose a little earlier than planned in frustration.
The queen has deemed me worthy of only protecting the clan. She tells me that it is because of my great precision and the resulting ability to accurately destroy catapults. I, of course, don't believe her.
Pulling away from yet another flaming catapult, I wonder at the satisfaction of watching a human burn. What is it that makes such a thing so enjoyable to the other dragons? I watch the unleashed flames and take in the resulting scent of singed human flesh. Repulsive.
Suddenly, something rough and long ensnares my wings. With a loud cry, I begin to speed towards the ground. Somewhere below, I hear a faint human voice yelling, "Yes! I hit it! Did anybody see that?" As I fall, I spare a glance at the ground. The human yelling is a scrawny thing, almost to be considered nonlethal. I vaguely wonder how he managed to shoot me down.
My thoughts are interrupted by the stabbing sharpness of tree branches. I scream in pain as my left tail fin is not only torn beyond repair, but ripped cleanly from my body. The ground is hard and as unforgiving as the trees.
Feeling the terrible pain in my tail, I think, "I'll never fly again." The already dark world around me fades into complete darkness.
Sorry about how short this chapter is. I've begun to notice that the first chapter or so of my stories usually is. Hmm... Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed!