Stormfly's POV
Another dragon raid, but this time I didn't notice the net until it was too late. It pulled me out of the sky, despite my best efforts to gain height. In the haste to escape this entanglement, I forgot about my fire-breathing ability. Instead, I used my tail to shoot spines at my attackers.
"Watch those spines," a big red-haired Viking called as he jumped down from the rocky ledge nearby. "Secure the tail! The devil still has its uses." What did he mean by that? I was soon to find out, after a sharp blow on the head, followed by a bout of unconsciousness.
I don't know how much later, I awoke to complete blackness. I was unable to sense anything in my surroundings, apart from the smell. The downside of the 'smelling' upside was that it only smelt of one thing. Death. Not just any death, but the death of my kind: dragons.
Somehow, I knew I wasn't alone in experiencing this place of horrors, and when I was let out (which was rare), even though it was only to fight, I made the most of it.
All that changed when someone shot down a Night Fury, and I met my rider, trainer and my best friend: Astrid Hofferson.