She sighed, levitating the dried up rose before replenishing its beauty. It uncurled, the lovely blood-red bloom unfurling and soaking through the petals like water. She glanced out of the tower window. A jet black curl flew into her face. With a roll of her golden eyes, she blew it out of her face. "Mother!" she called dryly, knowing the answer to the not-even-asked question. "Can I go outside?" It was a desperate attempt at a lost cause. "No, Katrina," a warm, sincere voice purred. "You know what would happen if those Vikings saw you." She groaned. "They'd catch me, and would either have a dragon kill me or I'd be burned alive. I've heard it all before, Mother." Her hand formed a tight fist, and the rose turned black and drained dead, its thorns more prominent. "I despise being locked up in this tower. I'm sixteen, Mother. I can control my powers." Her mother, a tall, concerned, simple woman, furrowed her brows, brushing her own long, brown hair. The girl turned, her golden eyes pleading. "Do you promise?" "I promise. I won't even go into town, I swear on my life. Just a little… exploration?" "No, Kat." "Oh, garn! I'm so good at controlling my powers, I wouldn't give myself away, or accidentally kill anyone, I promise! I'll stay in the woods, get fresh air… be outside. I'm beginning to believe I'm getting cabin fever, Mom!"
Her mother groaned as the girl begged, using excuses, stories, and anything she could to get outside. "Will you never bother with this again?" "Oh yes, I promise!" "Will you be extremely careful to not use your powers?" "Yes, I will, Mother." "No. I just… I'm so nervous for you. You can't leave. Not until you're eighteen." Two years?! The girl's pale, thin face grew agitated. "I'm fine! I can pretend to be normal! I just need someone… not just you… I need friends; I need to meet people…" Her mother walked away, straightening things around and adjusting flowers. "In two years, Katrina. When you're eighteen." Kat groaned. "Oh, fine! I'll never leave, I'll be pale and thin and sickly and be unable to run and jump and fight because I can't go outside. Let me die here, I don't care." Her mother turned in shock at her daughter's outburst. "Katrina!" Her face was red. She was standing in the window. Her mother couldn't stop her. Nobody could stop her. Her black cape was around her golden and dark gray dress, and over her head. "Goodbye, mother. I won't be seeing you. You can lead a normal life now. I won't be holding you back." She leaned back, and the air caught her, and she fell to the ground, landing on her feet. She glanced back at the tower. "No more being trapped, I suppose," she said, grinning. She ran into the woods, grinning.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Now, class, what do we do with dragons and witches?" "We kill them," the class answered obediently. "How do we know if a person is a witch? Anyone?" He raised his hand. He knew about how terrible dragons and witches were. "Yes, Hiccup?" "They… they have golden eyes. Like a hawk or an owl… or even sometimes a dragon." Astrid huffed, upset that he knew so much. "Thank you, Hiccup." Back to the everyday, boring, portal of not fitting in. Gobber was talking about dragon's weaknesses and how the Vikings kill witches and then how to insult people and fight dragons and all the other usual Viking things. Hiccup ran a hand through his hair again. If only something could stop this and he could escape and find that Night Fury he shot down at Raven Point. Odin help him, he was going to confront an injured Night Fury… alone. If he survived, he probably wouldn't tell anyone. "Okay, well, class, same time tomorrow…" The whole class, Astrid, Snotlout, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, Fishlegs, and, of course, Hiccup, exited quickly. Hiccup dashed away from the others, and toward Raven Point. "Now, to find that Night Fury…"
He stalked through the woods, agitated that he couldn't find it. "The gods hate me. Some people lose a sword, a dagger, maybe, but me? I manage to lose a whole DRAGON!" He scratched in his book; all the possible places he had marked were a negative. He smacked the branch hanging low in front of him, to have it pop him in the face. "Ow!" He realized that the branch was low because the tree had been split. He moved forward, more hopeful this time. He peered over a large rock, and saw the Night Fury, lying in the grass, tied up. He gasped, pulling himself behind the rock. There it was. Powerless. He could kill it. His life would be infinitely better. He stumbled from behind the rock, and fumbled to get his dagger. He held it protectively. He walked toward the dragon. "Okay… I'm going to kill you now…" The dragon looked at him, almost mockingly. He held the knife over his head, eyes closed. He peeped at the dragon. He couldn't do it. He ran a hand through his hair. "I can do this," he said, raising the dagger again. "I'm a Viking. I'm a Viking!" He said that last one to the dragon. It closed its eyes and accepted its fate. Hiccup started cutting the ropes. He didn't realize that a pair of golden eyes were watching from the bushes, intent on his every move.
Kat wanted to pull her hair out. This boy was delusional. He just had to know the thing would come after him. He was almost done with the last rope. Kat tensed, ready to leap and protect this boy. A dragon was going to be the end of her, anyways. Might as well be this one. In one, quick moment, the last rope snapped, the dragon rose up, and Kat sprang forward, between the gangly boy and the dragon. "Get back! Go on, leave him alone. He did you a service, did he not? Back!" The dragon did not budge, but stood, snarling, curious about this girl. She turned to the boy. "Run, you stupid boy!" He didn't budge, but sat still, mesmerized by this strange girl. The dragon lunged forward, trapping them both against a rock, beside each other. The dragon's claw sliced her cheek. Kat felt the fresh gash on her face begin to bleed. He roared, although it was more of a scream, in their faces, before he tried to fly away, but tumbling down again. The boy got up and tried to walk away, but crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap. "Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no!" Kat dashed over to him, picked him up and turned him over. He was evidently breathing, just unconscious. Who could entirely blame him? But he wasn't breathing regularly. They were either stressed breaths or difficult ones. Kat set a hand on his chest, and focused. She focused on the thought of him waking up and being fine. In a minute or so, he woke up.
"Agh, what happened?" "You… fell… and you hit your head. I was going back into the woods to find a friend of mine, and I saw you fall…" He noticed the trickle of blood down her face. "You're hurt." She smiled a bit, crookedly, although it irritated her cheek. "That branch back there's a bit nasty, eh?" He then realized exactly what had happened. "The… the Night Fury… and you! You tried to protect me from that… that… that dragon!" She smiled again, and the gash on her cheek seared with pain, and a hand flew up to it. It wasn't her hand. "Come on, I have to help you." "No, no, I'm fine… I promise…" She pulled the hood on her back over his hand and her cut. He moved upwards, before realizing that he couldn't get up. "Uh, could you maybe… let me up?" Her hand flew from his chest as he turned a bright red. "Oh! I'm sorry. I-I just…" She looked at the ground, trying to hide her golden eyes. She knew exactly what would happen if he saw her eyes. Didn't she? He was rather different. Maybe, if she explained her case… No, no, no. He wasn't to know. "I wished to know if you were okay. You… collapsed. I fear very great for those who seem… like that." He gave her a crooked smile, his hand still on her bleeding face. She put an ice-cold hand on his hand. He was taken aback at the chill of her hand. She looked up, and into his green eyes. They were a stormy sea gray-green, and her golden ones widened as she realized just exactly what she had done. He took in a breath. "Witch…" Her heart caught, like someone had grabbed it and jerked her back. For a split second, she was completely and utterly frozen. Her instincts cut in. She whipped his hand off of her cheek and dashed away, into the woods. The gash was still bleeding, but it didn't matter.
She had to get away. Somebody knew. And she had to escape.