Hazel is my replacement for Hiccup. She looks a lot like him, just has curves, a heart-shaped face, wears a skirt, and her long auburn hair in pulled back into a loose pony tail.

This is Berk. It's twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the meridian of misery. My village. In a word, sturdy. It's been here for seven generations , but every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests. You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have...

"Dragons!" Hazel panted as she slammed the door. Just behind it was a Nightmare trying to burn it down.

Most people would leave. Not us. We're vikings, we have stubbornness issues. My name's Hazel. Not the best name, I know. But I'd rather be named after a tree than my grandfathers. Parents believe that a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming viking demeanor wouldn't do that. I guess my parents must have thought I wouldn't be appealing enough for gnomes and trolls to take away. Lucky me, right?

Hazel ran through the village, trying to get to the smith shop. She knew Gobber would need her to help him with fixing any weapons.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Get back inside!"

Hazel heard random Vikings yelling at her as she ran past them. Just as she was about to cross a lane, a Nadder flew in front of her. Just when she would have been burned, a force pulled her back. She saw that it was the village chief. "Hazel! What is she doing...! What are you doing out?! Get inside!" He dropped Hazel and she ran toward the smith shop as fast as her skinny legs could carry her.

The giant is Stoick the Vast. chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off it's shoulders. Do I belive this?

Hazel turned back to watch as Stoick threw a wagon and hit a Nadder in the air.

Yes, I do. For two reasons. One: He's built like an ox. And two, well, I'll explain later.

The young girl kept running and ignored everything else around she got to the shop, she found the man she always considered an uncle hammering at a blade. "Oh, nice of you to join the party!" Gobber teased. "I thought you'd been carried off."

"Who, me? No, c'mon. I'm way too muscular for their taste." Hazel said as she picked up a heave hammer and set it on the wall behind her. "They wouldn't know what to do with all this."

"Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?" Even though Hazel was self conscious about her scrawny body, she always Gobber was just teasing.

The meathead with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. He's always been like family to me. I've been his apprentice since I was little...well, littler. Even though he doesn't really care for other people my age, he has a soft spot for me. I mostly think it's because I look like my mother, and he had great childhood memories with her being his only friend. I guess he feels that he needs to return the favor.

The young girl looked out the widow and saw the dragons setting the houses ablaze.

See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.

She then saw the other Viking around her age help put the fires out.

That's Fishlegs, my cousin Snotlout, the twins: Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and the only person my age that didn't tease me, Astrid. Oh, their job is so much cooler.

Gobber used his hook to pick Hazel up and move her away from the window. "Oh, c'mon." She groaned. "Let me out, please? I need to make my mark."

"Oh, you've made plenty of marks." Gobber said as he put her down. "All in the wrong places."

"Please. Two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will infinitely get better. A boy may even notice me and not cringe at my very presence." Hazel complained.

"Okay, one day, a boy will see you and like you. But just think about it, Hazel. You can't lift a hammer. You can't swing an ax. You can't even throw one of these." He says as he lifts up a bolas, which gets snatched away by a Viking outside and is used to bring down a Gronkle.

"Okay, fine." Hazel admits. "But this will throw it for me." She pats her own invented bolas launcher. Sadly, it snaps open and launches a bolas right at a Viking outside. "Really?!" She exclaims.

"See? Now this right here is what I'm talking about." Gobber says as he approaches the girl.

"Mild calibration issue..." Hazel trailed.

"No, Hazel! If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all...this." The blacksmith said as he gestured to her whole self.

"But you just pointed to all of me." She complained.

"Yes, that's it." Gobber smiled as he poked her shoulder. "Stop being all of you. Oh, yes."

Hazel nodded as she started to see his meaning. "Oh, you, sir, are playing a dangerous game." She pointed. "Keeping this much raw Vikingness contain? There will be consequences!" She tried to be intimidating.

Gobber merely replied in a bored voice, "I'll take my chances. Sword! Sharpen! Now." The smithie said as he handed Hazel a sword. She did as she was told with a scowl.

One day, I'll get out there, because killing a dragon is everything around here. A Nadder head might get me at least some attention. Gronkles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get me way more attention, maybe even a boyfriend. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status. And then there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire. But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one's ever seen before. We call it the…

"Night Fury!" Some yelled, getting Hazel's attention.

This thing never steals food, never shows itself and above all...never misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury, that's why I'm going to be the first.

Hazel turned when she heard some noise to see Gobber putting swapping his smith clamp for his axe. "Man the fort, Hazel. They need me out there." He walked out the door but turned. "Stay. Put. Here. You know what I mean." He let out a battle cry and raced into battle.

This was it, now or never! Hazel took this moment and pushed her bolas launcher out of the shop as Vikings continued asking what she was doing. She just ignored them as she pushed it through all the chaos to a quiet spot in the village. Hazel then quickly set up her launcher and got ready, waiting for anything to fly by.

"C'mon. Gimme something to shoot at. Gimme something to shoot at." That was when she heard the faint roar of the Night Fury. Hazel searched the sky for her target. All she could see was the silhouette against the stars. Not much to go by, but when would she ever get another chance? She took aim and saw the torch light fire. And when she saw the dragon fly by, she pulled the trigger. The shock of the release caused Hazel to be pushed back and the launcher destroyed, but the bolas was launched. Hazel quickly stood as she gasped. She heard another roar and saw the silhouette fall into the forest. "I hit it. Yes. I hit it!" She cheered. "Did anybody see that?" Hazel looked around to find anyone, but instead, she turned back to the cliff to find a Nightmare glaring at her. "Except for you." She muttered.

Stoick was busy tying down a Nadder when he saw Hazel running from a Nightmare. He groaned before heading toward them. "Do not let them escape!" He shouted back.

Hazel was barely dodging the attacks of the Nightmare as she ran. She was able to stand behind a torch post, but she panickied when the dragon following her breathed fire against it. Hazel, out of fear, peaked around to see if it was still there, only to see Stoick attack it when it would have eaten her. The dragon tried to breathe fire on the chief, but it was out of fuel for it's flames. "You're all out." Stoick said. He then punched it. The dragon's only choice was to retreat.

Do you remember when I said I'd tell you the second reason I believed Stoick killed a dragon as a child? Well, there's only one way to explain it.

The post fell down, causing the lit torch to roll through the village. Hazel flinched with every sound the torch made when it hit something. She turned to find a Dissappointed look on Stoick's face. "Sorry, Dad." She said sheepishly.

Everyone saw the dragons getting away with more of their livestock. Hazel looked around before saying, "Okay, but I hit a Night Fury." She was then yanked by her father. "It's not like the last few times, Dad! I mean, I really, actually hit it!" She kept protesting as he father dragged her away from the middle of the crowd. "You guys were busy. I had a very clear shot. It went off Raven Point. Let's get a search party-"

"Stop!" Stoick yelled, scaring her. He didn't seem to care. "Just stop. Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed."

"Well, between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding."

"This isn't a joke, Hazel!" Stoick then sighed. "Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

"I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just kill it, like the way you said Mom always did. It's who I am, Dad." Hazel stated.

"You are many thing, Hazel. But a dragon killer is not one of them...and neither is being your mother." He muttered the last part to himself, but his daughter and friend could hear it. Her eyes widened and tears threatened to fall. Was she really that much different from her mother? Was she that much of a disgrace that her own father would say it? Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard her father say, "Get back to the house." Stoick then turned to Gobber. "Make sure she gets there. I have her mess to clean up."

Gobber gently placed a hand on Hazel's shoulder only to watch her jerk away and stomp a few paces ahead of him. He knew Stoick missed Val, he also knew how much Hazel wanted to be like her to make her father proud. But this was hurtful. He knew his friend didn't mean for it to be, but it still hurt.

Hazel kept walking and ignored everything the teenagers said as she let the silent tears fall. The only teenagers that didn't insult her were Fishlegs and Astrid. Fishlegs just stared while Astrid looked on with sympathy. Once they reached the hill to her house, she let all the rage out. "Am I that much of a screw up? I really did hit one."

"Sure, Hazel."

"He never listens."

"It runs in the family."

"And when he does, it's with this disappointed scowl like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich. 'Excuse me, barmaid. I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring. I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here is a female talking fishybone.' It's like I don't matter to him."

"No, you're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like, it's what on the inside that he can't stand." Gobber didn't realize what he really said until he saw the tears come out again. But as much as Stoick denied it, Hazel did have some of him in her. His stubbornness was blantantly clear as she wiped the tears away and replaced them with a scowl.

"Thank you for summing that up." She said sarcastically.

"Look, the point is, stop trying so hard to be something your not."

"I just wanna be like my mom! Is that so bad?!" She cried as she slammed the door in Gobber's face. The blacksmith was tempted to go in and give Hazel a piece of his mind. But he stopped when he heard her sobbing. This was definitely one of those times when Hazel needed Val. As Gobber turned to leave, Hazel dried her tears and went out the back door. She was going to find this dragon and prove her worth in the village, not matter what her father said.