Hello! This is the intro to my first fanfic. I'd love some feedback. Also, a mini-dictionary:
tonn beag = little wave
eagna saoi = wisdom sage
Disclaimer: Don't own How to Train Your Dragon!
A lamb bleated after standing idly for two minutes. Its mother rose her head slightly, she wasn't concerned. Morgaife put her pencil into her mouth and heaved a deep breath as she stood up.
"How can a ewe tell the difference between a 'bored' bleat and an 'I can't see my mom' bleat, Whistle?" she inquired. Whistle huffed her 'can't you be a normal human?' sigh. "I know, I know. I have an insufferable curiosity, but I only have a week before the next campaign! After that, it's no more books, no more tellings, no more studies, and no more... THINKING!" Aif stormed. She packed up her sketchpad and snapped her notebook closed. At least she had those comforts during the campaign. She took a deep breath as she surveyed the grass for any of her belongings. She then urged her companion, "Come on Whistle, let's get back in time for the telling!"
As soon as they reached the village, a cluster surrounded them. The horde of children drowned out any sort of reason. The only things that could be discerned were 'Aif' and 'telling' being screamed multiple times by each person. "STOP," a large voice thundered, "Stop this rabble! I will not have you waifs going on like this, back to The Hall with you before you lose an eye by my hands!" Aif, as she was known to all who lived on Elde Island, greeted the man striding forward through the retreating masses with a nod and a, "Greetings Chief Brogan" The bear of a man retorted with a wide smile at the mock formality, "Uncle to you, little wave." Then his expression became solemn. "You must want to know the meaning of that riffraff," he paused, "The elders had the choosing at noon, as usual. The honor of the teller has been bestowed upon you, tonn beag." He had said this speech slowly and pridefully. The teller, or eagna saoi, was chosen only at the full moon. For the choice, the elders gathered at sundown on the first night of the full moon and debated their choice of teller until a unanimous decision was reached at sunrise. They declared their choice at noon the following day. The teller was the commonplace title used, but it literally meant the wisdom sage. It was a person ordained to tell their life story. The honor wasn't special until a young person was chosen; it signified a rich life. Aif felt this new burden keenly, but bore it regally.
"I accept the honor bestowed upon me." She clenched a fist at her heart, forhead, and then opened it over Brogan's opened palm as if she were pouring sand. It was the official ritual to perform with the news-bearer. "I suppose I should start composing the narrative. I'll stop by to grab food and then go back to the lodge. See you then Uncle Brogan," she pecked his cheek and scampered away to their family's lodge with Whistle, who had been occupied with eating during the whole exchange.
Behind the walls of her room in the lodge, she sank down with her back against the wall. She didn't want to sort through the memories. Her choices were to refuse respectfully, or leave nothing out. Whistle had crawled in through the back door and sat on her stone ledge built into the wall. She hadn't refused because she already had everything memorized. Aif started to narrate her life story for the 97th time...
The beginning happened to be when she met Whistle. The meeting came to be thanks to her distant relative, almost cousin really, who had tamed the dragons. Hiccup of Berk Island.