So to all of you who follow WTIACWS, I'll have a note on the bottom. Everyone else, please enjoy!

"It's not so much what you look like, its what's inside that he can't stand."

"This is serious son. When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us, you talk like us, you think like us. No more of…this."

"Our parent's war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."

"That's for the lies. And that's for everything else."

"Just, promise me it won't go wrong."

"You're not my son."

"Go."

"He's alive. You brought him back alive!"

The sudden roar of cheers in his head woke him. A wet nose nudged his chin. "Hey bud," he murmured over a thick tongue and cracked lips. The licking started until a paw stepped on his stomach, making him shoot up-

And suddenly see a very large, very real black wolf, half on his bed. He flinched away, screaming, "Help! Somebody help! Dad, Toothless, somebody!"

The wolf had backed away as soon as the boy screamed, and his dad thundered up the stairs shortly after. "Son, what is it? What's wrong?"

"The-Dad, it's-there's a wolf, Dad!"

"Um, that's your wolf, son. You told me so yourself. The doctor swore you didn't hit your head, but maybe I should call him back…"

"Wha- Dad, there aren't even any wolves on the island, how-"

"Island? Son, are you sure you're feeling alright? Berk may be in the middle of nowhere, but it's most certainly not an island. Now, lay back down, we need to clear some things up."

While his dad grabbed a chair, he edged away from the canine, who had lain down while resting his head on the bed.

"So about the spirits…" his dad started just as he asked "So about the dragons…"

Both frowned in confusion. "Wha-"they both said again, but his dad stopped him. "Nope, I'll just…son, you came to help us." He opened his mouth, but his dad rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Son, let me try to explain. Just…nod if you understand that, alright son?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, giving the wolf a nervous glance.

"I was a fool, I know that now. I wish I had listened to you. That monster was too much for us to handle on our own. But what you did, no one has ever thought of, much less done. And if you hadn't, I shudder to think what would have happened to us. If you hadn't showed up with those spirits, I might not-"

"What spirits? Dad, they're just dragons."

His dad frowned but shook his head. "Anyways. That one, it was as mad as any vengeful spirits as I've ever seen. And a bear to boot. Mortal rabid bears are bad eno-"

"Bear? Dad, that was a giant dragon. Why- you keep saying spirits, what are you saying?"

His dad huffed, then dragged a hand over face. "Now, don't laugh, just answer me. What's the year?"

"Um, Trader Johan brought that book a month ago dated 984…"

His dad looked at him in disbelief. "Son, it's 2009. The winter is coming."

His head was suddenly feeling light. "What?" then he looked around. His dad's beard was red and bushy still. While braids decorated it, it was not as grand as he had remembered it. His hair was short, hanging above his shoulders. His clothes were not furs. It was not a tunic and breeches. His boots were not fur lined.

He looked at the blanket fisted in his hands. It was not a bear fur. It was very soft. Beside him was a table, with a metal rod sticking out of a base. A linen cover domed over it. There was not a candle to be seen. He looked for where the light was coming from, and saw a window. Panes of clear glass covered it. It was the clearest glass he had ever seen.

His heart was beating too fast. This was not making sense. "How long was I asleep?"

"Five days? Since the attack. Been raining since then, it only just stopped this morning. All that snow got washed away and the green just appeared all along the pl-"

"That doesn't make sense. That-" He tried to remember any dreams he had had before. None of them had the vividness of what he was sure was his life.

He finally noticed across the room was a desk. It was the exact same as he remembered it. Covered in sketches and a leather bound journal.

"Dad, wait a sec, I just-" he had thrown the blankets off. He was wondering, somewhere in the back of his mind, why his leg had fallen asleep. But-

"Son, Henrik, I-"

"Wha- what did you just say?"

He looked at him. "Henrik, I know it-"

"My names Hiccup. Dad, what are you-" he had to grab that journal. He lunged out of bed, but the pressure between his leg and the prosthetic caused him to gasp, staggering.

The wolf's head appeared under him, catching him. He felt a sense of relief overcome him, and a whispered 'Thanks' escapes his lips. The wolf walks beside him as Hiccup hopes over to the desk and slumps into the chair.

It moves under him. The handles are not wood, but cold like metal, though there was no well-known sheen of any metal he knew.

His hand shook slightly as it reached for the journal. Each page he knew as his own. He knew what his trees looked like, his shadowing of buildings. He knew his own mind, shown in small devices. Even his own scratching of the runes beside the devices, explaining it all. Some words he didn't know, but they were still written by his hand.

Then there was the wolf. Sketched in then lightly shaded by charcoal, it was the same wolf that sat beside him, licking his nose and shifting from one paw to-

Hiccup slowly reached forward, brushing his hand over the wolf's nose. He leaned in to it with a content groan, and reached over to lick Hiccup's ear as his hand moved down his side and to where his left hind leg should have been. He ran a thumb over the shorter fur.

A huff made him whip his head back to facing the great thing. His shoulder was around the same spot as his own. His head could swallow him in two-three bites. But as he reached up to the wolfs chin, it groaned and leaned, eventually falling over onto his side then back as Hiccup obliged a belly rub.

"Did…I tell you what I named him?"

"I think it was Skoll."

He knew that name. "Shocking, I wonder why…" He gave a shy look between the lolling wolf and his father, still rigid in his chair. "Um, would you tell me what happened?" He gave a pointed look to his leg.

"We were cornered. That damn bear got us by the ridge, a cliff face behind us, another drop to our right, and a pile of rocks as tall as the bear to our left. The rabid spirit was so mad he didn't even look as he swung. Gunnar and I were screaming at it, hoping it would move too fast and maybe fall off the cliff or- but then that howl-" He shivered. "You came bounding around on that beast, and I feared it was Loki on his beast-child Fanrir.

"You howled and tore at that thing until it chased you all the way up the mountains. Then you had it tumbling after you back down, tripped over its own legs I'd wager. Then…it ran into you, Skoll couldn't get a grip on the rocks. It got you, by the shape of your leg. And it pulled you both down. We found him on the shore, I thought-"

Hiccup was suddenly picked up into a hug he was unfamiliar with. Nevertheless, the smell of his father was the same. Whatever difference between what he remembered and where he was, he was happy to still have his father.

Now, the date I picked a bit randomly. It is very close to '300 years,' (as Hiccup said in the movie) after the Viking Age began, as well as about 100 years before it ends. So.

Skoll is based on the wolf who chases the sun. I thought it was funny being that the wolf is based on Toothless, the Night Fury. If Skoll gets the sun, he eats it, turning the world into eternal night. Funny, yes?

Also, there's a one shot I'm working on. It has a few OC's I want to add into this story, I want a vote on that, as well as if I should work on this one more. Added note, once I get this started, I will be asking for oneshot requests. I'll bring this up again, don't worry.

Now, for WTIACWS followers, I'm sorry, I'm very stuck on on dates in that one, and it hasn't left my heart or mind. I will pick it back up, I swear, I just need to get my focus back.