A/N: Enjoy this Toothcup friendship one-shot.

The Isle of Burk: an earthy mass of serrated mountain ridges, perilous cliff-sides and believe it or not, a recent influx of dragons. Sure, if someone told me a year ago that the Hooligan tribe would eventually coincide peacefully with the ferocious beasts they've spent the better half of 200 years slaying, I would've laughed in their face, or possibly spat in it—same difference.

For one, the fact that we Vikings only sought to kill and down dragons, and not ride them and feed them fish, was hard to take into account and yet somehow it had all come to pass.

Bizarre really, but I've experienced stranger things, such as myself for instance: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, the rightful heir to the Viking throne and sardonically the weakest link and social pariah of the Hooligans. Even though a year had passed since Toothless and I demolished the Green Death, I was still the scrawny, gangly freckled kid that sketched doodles and drawings in his spare time. However, I was often left off the hook- being a first-class savior and famed Dragon Tamer did have its many perks.

Which brings me back to the present, nearly a year later. I was at the cove today, sketching an array of drawings in my makeshift journal while I tried to balance myself precariously on a huge boulder. Predictably, I was sketching Toothless, who was busy frolicking in the pond and catching fish with those retractable teeth of his.

"Can't you hold still, buddy?" I called to him, setting my face in a pout. Toothless craned his neck and stared across at me, an immense flopping fish wriggling between his mighty jaws. He rolled his yellow-tinged eyes and turned away, scaly tale flopping down into the water where it propelled a tremendous splash. The spray regrettably caught in my hair and some water droplets freckled the page of my journal.

"Hey!" I shouted at Toothless, a pungent glare in my eye. I had spent the better half of the morning trying to draw that reptilian beast as he twisted and glided about the cove, dipping through crystal clear waters and grazing through plush grass, never staying in a position long enough for me to draw him properly. The Night Fury paid no attention to my griping and continued chomping on his fish. Feeling ignored, I huffed under my breath and closed my journal, chucking it a good distance away from me.

"You got my journal all wet, you overgrown lizard!" I bellowed at him, a playful laugh cracking through my voice. He was currently trying his best to fly, even though we both knew he couldn't actually do the deed without my being there to direct him, but it seemed he was content at just jumping and semi-gliding about the cove, crash landings never deterring him. I stood up from the boulder and brushed off my tunic, placing my hands at my sides as I rolled my eyes. "Come on, you're gonna' get grass between your scales again. If the other dragons catch a whiff of you, you're gonna' make them go nuts."

I watched him turn around mid-glide, where he then dove directly towards me. For a second, I thought he was going to crash right into me, but Toothless managed to halt exactly a foot away from where I stood, landing on his haunches. The ground vibrated with his landing, sending me sprawling to the muddy ground. I landed with a yielding thud, water and sand caking about my backside, soaking up the excess water like a sponge. I glared up at the dragon, my brow furrowed as I felt the water seep down my back.

"Thanks a lot," I mumbled, blowing a strand of hair away from my face. Toothless merely crooned and lowered his head, nudging his nose against my face as a sign of apology. I was still pretty ticked, but managed a crooked smile. Seeing this, the Night Fury uncurled his tail and wrapped it around my waist, picking me up from the ground. He placed me on my feet beside him, trilling once again and swiped his tongue across my face. I grimaced. "Eww, gross Toothless. Not only am I gonna' smell like mud, but also like half-digested fish. Thaaaanks."

Toothless smiled.

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