Wow, I just cannot believe this. 31 followers to this story already? I cannot believe how quickly this has caught fire after only one chapter; I can only imagine how this is gonna turn out once we get to the good stuff.

Sorry if it seems this doesn't update as fast as the rewrite I'm working on. The truth is, I already have a bunch of those chapters all ready to go and upload, which is why I post them so fast. This story is pretty much my first Httyd fanfic that I'm doing on my own, and I'm taking my time working on an overall plotline while at the same time writing these individual chapters as I go along. I try to cap them off at about 5000 words per chapter, so as not to overwhelm readers with so much. Again, my first fanfic, so try and cut me a bit of slack.

I hope you guys enjoy this one, because I'm not sure how I feel about it. It was a real head-scratcher trying to work out these conversations.

All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.


Hiccup continued to jog forward into the dense forest ahead him, passing through the scores of pine trees that from his perspective seem to touch the sky. In every direction the trees spread out, every possible turn led through more and more of them. Though upset, he still managed to navigate the path through, passing shrubs, hopping off the tops of rocks jutting from the ground and small crevices where smaller animals hid. The forest grew deeper and deeper as he went on, until the sky could barely even be seen past the needles on each of the individual trees' highest branches.

Hiccup had been warned many times not to go into the forest unless he had an adult with him, as all the children were. He was just warned multiple times due to his short attention span, even though this was technically his first time going in so deeply. The woods were supposed to be home to several kinds of dangerous animals, such as wild boars or wolves. Some Vikings even said that they had spotted a dragon or two roaming around probably hunting for food; those dragons were always promptly killed though before they could go any further. Still, Hiccup couldn't help but be wary and wonder how many more were inside.

Now, though, he didn't really care about any potential dangers or anything of the like. He just wanted to be by himself, away from everybody else, who suddenly hated him after one mistake.

Hiccup kept his eyes forward, locked on the path ahead of him, and failed to notice the large rock sticking out of the ground. His foot caught on it and he tripped down with a hard slam to the ground. His green tunic was covered in dirt stains and he could feel a slight sprain in his ankle. He even felt a small stink coming from somewhere around his knee, he had guessed that it had been skinned in the fall somehow. He picked himself up and just sat there in silence for a few moments, looking down at his small lap.

Everything Snotlout said about being useless and a liability just kept spiraling in his mind in a whirlpool of derogatory thoughts. The insults just replayed themselves over and over again, making both his head and his heart hurt along with the rest of his body. Such insults only drove home the fact that he was the polar opposite of his father it seemed, someone who commanded respect and admiration from all around him with words alone. A man who was nearly as tall as a mountain and more ferocious than any storm that hit the island of Berk, who could stare into the eyes of devils with nary a flinch and fight until his last breath. He wanted to be someone like that, he wanted to be the perfect Viking that his father wanted more than anything else in the world.

Now that he thought about it, he was born at the same time the other kids were, so he should have grown up like them. They were all around the same age, even if he was a few weeks behind Snotlout or the twins. Surely he should have, at that point, been just as healthy as them.

Yet here he was, with arms as limp as weeds and a chest so small he could easily pass for a stick. It was the way he was born, and it was something that neither he, nor anyone else could change. He had tried to bulk up in the past, stuffing himself with food until he was ready to burst and he puked into the wee hours in the outhouse by their home. But for all his efforts, his miniscule frame remained unchanged and he was just barely able to lift the weapons lying on the forge floor off the ground.

Hiccup huddled up to himself, hugging his knees and scrunching up his back, letting himself ignore the reality of his situation and ponder as if it was possible. If I was strong, will daddy and everyone else be happy? If I was the same as them, will they like me?'

He suddenly heard a rustling sound coming from somewhere nearby, and he picked his head up to look. There was nothing in front of him, at first glance it seemed he was still by himself in the woods. He heard the sound again, and he pinpointed it to a nearby bush that was shaking somewhat.

Perhaps it was a small animal, like a squirrel or a rabbit, Hiccup guessed, but the rustling seemed to be too loud and too frequent for either of them. It was most likely a baby boar or wolf cub, and just that thought made Hiccup tremble like a leaf. Even young predatory animals were dangerous, they could bite his hand or give him a nasty scratch with their claws. Hiccup certainly didn't want to suffer injury on top of insult today, so he quickly picked himself off the ground.

He took a few cautious steps back not to startle whatever was hiding there and convince it into pouncing on him. When he was sure he was a safe distance away, he turned and bolted back towards the village. He may not be happy there, but he would be safe.

Whatever that thing was, he didn't want it anywhere near him.


Hiccup had just made it to the edge of the forest and saw the entirety of the village come into view. He looked down to see all the people having gotten through most of their chores and were sitting on the porches on their houses, talking with each other while drinking their mugs of beer and snacking on chicken and yak legs. Things had gotten along just fine without him, in fact people looked really happy. Did that start once he left, he wondered? Were people happy because he was gone? He tried to put it out of his head – he'd been thinking enough depressing thoughts for one day, probably enough for a whole week.

He just looked out to the houses of the other kids, the square where the stone circle was and most Vikings gathered, and the forge just past it. Wait…

Hiccup shrieked and grabbed his auburn streaks in distress. "The forge! I totally forgot! Oh, Gobber's gonna be so mad at me!" He remembered just at that moment that Gobber had wanted him to clean up before he got back. He rushed over to the forge as quick as his little legs could carry him.

He ducked and swerved past the Vikings that were still doing their jobs, carrying large logs of wood for their houses, some having three or four logs under the crook of a single arm. This time, people seemed so happy or busy that they completely ignored him as he went by. Good, Hiccup thought to himself, the last thing he needed was anybody being angry at him.

He made it to the forge in perhaps record time, and stopped just before the door on the side, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. With bated breath, he grabbed the handle on the door and pushed slowly, trying to be as sneaky as possible. The door creaked open slightly, and he wormed through to enter the forge.

The forge was a simple place, it had all the necessities a blacksmith needed, nothing too fancy or over the top. In the back of the room there was a large fireplace built from what was little more than a column of stone with a hole near the bottom surrounded by a small hearth of stone bricks, the inside currently put out and pitch black from all the soot and the many hours the flame would normally be lit. Next to the fireplace was a large stone wheel fixed into a wooden sawhorse with a foot pedal connected to it, a grinding wheel used to sharpen the blades of swords or axes that might have become dull from repeated use. Also close by was a cube formed from the same hastily crafted stone bricks with a bellow pump nearby and coals placed inside, with tongs on top; along with the fireplace this could be used for reheating and reshaping metal.

A barrel filled with water was on the other side of the fireplace for cooling down the metal once it had been shaped; the clouds of steam that always rose up in large amounts always made Hiccup sweat, and he always remembered how the barrels needed to be constantly refilled. Scores of weapons, swords, lances, shields, axes, crossbows, spears, and spiked hammers were placed on shelves or stored in wooden barrels on the back wall, some broken in some way and needing repair while others were on reserve to be used as quick replacements for Vikings needing a quick change out in the field. The benches were littered with tongs, forge hammers, plenty of nuts and bolts and wooden handles and spare wood planks, scraps of metal and leather, with even more of the same wrapped up in nets hanging from the wooden beams that held up the ceiling. The shutters of the front window at the front near the open main entrance were closed off, indicating that the forge was currently closed at this time.

Hiccup breathed a sigh of relief at that. If the forge was closed right now, then that meant Gobber was not yet here and wouldn't catch him late. He hastily grabbed his apron from the side of the house and tied the straps around his back. He then grabbed a broom nearby and started sweeping the thick layer of dust that had gathered on the floor, turning his back to the main workspace of the forge.

"Well, good ta see you could take time ou' of yur busy schedule ta do yur job." A dry voice sounded from behind him.

Hiccup flinched heavily to see that Gobber was standing behind him, arms crossed, jaw fixed, eyebrow cocked and looking not really all that angry, but none too amused, either. He grasped the broom with both hands and tried his best to look anywhere but at his irritated mentor.

"Um-uh… w-well… I was just, um, I-I was-"Hiccup stuttered.

Gobber raised up his prosthetic hook that he had replaced his hammer from earlier with. "Ah, forget it. Ya got time ta yap, ya got time ta clean, so get to it." He shooed him off while he started up the bellows to heat up the coals. He grabbed a spare sword from the shelf that had been bent completely out of shape and started to heat the metal. He began whistling a cheerful tune once the coals started to heat up to pass the time until the sword would be hard enough.

Hiccup just watched nervously for a moment, just feeling the stifling heat emanating from the heated rocks, the air growing intense and hot around him, watching the small particles of ignited coal dust flat through the air, but eventually returned to his sweeping.

After a while, Gobber had taken the sword over the bench, sweeping off most of its contents and placing the sword on a metal anvil near the edge. Once again, he replaced his prosthetic, switching it back to the hammer, and began pounding the soft misshapen metal. Hiccup had by now cleaned most of the floor and turned back to Gobber, just watching him carefully. Gobber had managed to pick up on Hiccup staring at him and grinned, if only slightly.

"I take it somethin's on yur mind?" Gobber asked wryly. "Well, might as well spit it out. I think we've all learned by now how dangerous you thinkin' can be."

Hiccup frowned and turned away after having finally caught himself staring. "Can we please not talk about it? I just wanna forget it ever happened…"

"Oh, you an' me both," Gobber said passively. "But if there's one thing Vikings know how ta do, besides fightin', drinkin', and sailin', not ta mention avoid bathin'," he added once he gave his armpits a good whiff, "it's hold a grudge."

"Well, it's not like I planned for all that stuff to happen!" Hiccup cried out suddenly. "How was I supposed to know that dumb piece of junk would make such a mess? I try to do something good and all I get is everybody super mad at me!"

"Ah, true, you're not exactly everybody's favorite runt right now." Gobber added while he just continued to pound.

"I know, Snotlout made that pretty obvious." Hiccup said.

Gobber quickly stopped his hammering and looked at Hiccup, the boy just sweeping more and more on one spot of floor absentmindedly. He would never admit it, but he was petty worried about his young apprentice. He had figured from the very beginning that Snotlout would grow up to be nothing but a bad egg, already showing too much ego for someone his age. And now that he thought about it, Hiccup did look a bit frazzled. Obviously his cousin had said something that really got to him, and the boy in typical stubborn Viking fashion, was trying hard to conceal it.

The smith let out a heavy sigh and placed his good hand to his hip, turning to face Hiccup fully. "All right, what'd the little muttonhead do?"

"I said I don't wanna talk about it." Hiccup replied back.

"Ah, you didn't wan' ta talk about yur litt'l disaster on wheels, I'm talkin' about Snotlout. Come on, out with it, wha' happened?" Gobber asked. Again, Hiccup just stayed silent while sweeping the same spot more and more.

Gobber sighed and shook his head; obviously this was going to require a bit harder of a gentle nudge. "Ya know, yur more like yer father than anyone around cares ta think. He was never the type to talk about his problems either, always just went wit' the quick solution an' smashed some defenseless tree. Did it work? Neeegh, who could say?" He shrugged. "A thousan' broken stumps later an' that mug 'a his is still scowlin'." Hiccup, again, continued to sweep that spot under his feet. Gobber couldn't help but notice the resemblance to how Stoick would only grunt when he stopped by the house mere moments ago. Like he said, those two were more alike than anyone thought.

"All right, enough wit' tha sweepin! Anymore an' I'll be able ta see ma reflection in the floor!" He shouted after a few more moments as he picked Hiccup off the floor by his collar, dangling him in the air.

Hiccup thrashed and grunted in frustration, swinging his arms around and threatening to whack Gobber with the broom that was still in his hand. "Let me go, put me down!" He yelled.

"Not until I get some answers. That smug little troll said somethin' ta tick you off an' I wanna know what!" Gobber said.

"It's none of your business!" Hiccup cried.

"Oh, it isn't, is it? Whether either of us likes it er not, you're ma apprentice Hiccup, an' that means ah need you ta keep this place runnin' smoothly and help folks when they need it!" Gobber reasoned. "The same way your father expects you to when you take his place as chief, but none o tha's gonna happen unless you learn ta solve yur own problems first! Now are you gonna get this thing off yur chest already, or am I gonna have ta dangle ya from the roof?"

At the mention of his father, Hiccup had gone completely silent, hanging limply from Gobber's hand and letting his grip on the broom slip and causing it to drop to the floor. With the way everyone was so angry at him, he'd let it slip from his mind completely that he was going to succeed his father and become the next chief of Berk, governing over each and every one of them. Like Gobber said, people would be coming to him with their individual problems seeking his guidance; come times of war and in ongoing battles with the dragons, they would look to him for leadership.

But his mistake from months ago had been causing him to question everything he had once believed. He had to wonder if people were now questioning it just as he was now whether he'd be a good chief. He didn't even want to be chief at all, but always figured he'd just be mindlessly groomed into the position without any say whatsoever. He imagined that by the time he came of age, as reluctant as he would be, he'd still know all the intricacies of being a proper chief and produce satisfactory results – nothing big, just enough to keep Berk from crumbling into the ocean. His father could at least be proud of him for that.

Hiccup looked solemn, squinting his eyes in clear distress, pausing just a moment more before finally giving Gobber an answer. "He… he called me… 'Useless.'"

Gobber's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What now?"

"Hiccup the Useless. He said it was my new title, 'cause I can't do anything right." Hiccup said not bothering to look Gobber in the eye. Just saying the title was enough to bring shame.

Both master and apprentice were silent, letting the nickname sink in, the name that would label the young boy for years to come. "Huh…" Gobber said after a long pause. "Not what I woulda come up with."

This earned him a worried glance from the boy still dangling in his grip. "Really, what would you have called me?"

"Ah, I'm thinkin' like…" Gobber cursed himself for his lack of creativity; he was never very good when it came to names. "Eh, how bout… Hiccup the 'Useful?'"

Hiccup just pouted back with his curious expression returned to a look of sadness. "That's not much better."

"Fine then," Gobber exasperatedly shot back. "Settle for 'Hiccup the Whiny'."

"Gobber!"

"Better yet, let's go with 'Hiccup the Worrywart,'" said Gobber with a crooked smile on his face, the stone tooth in his exaggerated lower jaw sticking out among the rest of his misshapen teeth. "'Cause you're worryin' too much over what other folk think a you. If yu wanna think yur Hiccup the Useless, then far be it from me ta naysay. Ah'll be more than happy ta engrave et on yur first sword." He pointed his hammer straight into Hiccup's little chest, causing him to topple over. "But I'd say a gewd righ' hook is in order for the nimrod tha tells ya that's wha' yu should be. If you gotta listen ta anyone else, start wit' the people that mattar."

Hiccup shifted his moods again, returning once more to confusion as he stared up at Gobber. "The people that matter?" He asked in confusion.

"Like friends for starters." Gobber pointed out.

Hiccup frowned at that. He was supposed to trust friends to tell him what he was and wasn't, what he could and couldn't do? The last 'friend' he trusted to do that told him straight to his face that he was 'nothing but trouble.' Astrid had never been so cold to him before – they always used to laugh and have fun together, helping Astrid's mother with baking, doing chores around the house and pretending to be dragon slayers. And come to think of it, Fishlegs was once a friend of his too, always hanging out with him reading books and enjoying a snack in the great hall. Then one day he up and left Hiccup to go and hang out with Snotlout and the twins, even though it hardly looked like he was enjoying their company. All his so called friends had up and left him, so who was he supposed to trust now? Why did everything have to change, and how did it change so quickly?

Gobber noticed Hiccup's frown and just turned back to the bench to start hammering on the now-cooled blade. "All right, off with ya."

"Huh?" Hiccup looked back up to the smith and asked.

"Yu heard me, yur done for the day. I don' need a gloomy gus like you around. Just head on home." Gobber said without even looking, just sticking the sword back in the freshly pumped coals to reheat it.

Hiccup just sat there for a moment lost before standing up slowly. "Okay," was all he said as he untied his apron and hung it back up by the small nail on the wall where it had been when he first came in. He gave himself a good dusting once more to shake off any residual dust and snuck past the door again. "See ya, I guess." The last thing he said before closing the door.

"Be here all the earlier the next day!" He heard Gobber call while he went back up the hill to his house.


Hiccup had headed over to the small ledge that overlooked the village plaza, not that far a distance from the forge where he just was. Of course, nothing was really that far when one lives in a tight knit village such as this. He could see Gobber still working heartily at the anvil, pounding what looked to be a block for a brand new hammer. Other Vikings were already lined up ready to get their weapons repaired just in time for the next dragon raid, whenever it would be. The Vikings of Berk had long since learned to sleep with their weapons under their pillow and ready to fight at a moment's notice, and yet they could hardly do so with weapons that had more cracks in them than the stones in the circle placed dead center in the open area. Hiccup dangled his feet from the ledge, kicking them back and forth and feeling the small tufts of grass he seated upon shift beneath him and itch his bottom.

Hiccup just kept thinking about what Gobber had said and trying to find even one person among the throngs of warriors who could fit the description of 'friend.' A friend was… well, it was hard for him to put into words, it was just one of those little things that one takes for granted. A child was no different, being so capable of making a friend after just a short exchange of a few words. A friend, as Hiccup or any other child would understand it, was someone who makes you happy, and no one here could fit that mold well enough. Their coldness bent them out of shape, deforming and twisting them into near strangers, them, the people that Hiccup had and would spend his whole life knowing.

He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder suddenly, like someone had punched him, and turned around to see Astrid. Hiccup pouted slightly, inwardly chastising himself for not being able to guess that very instant. Astrid had always been a violent child; punching people was her form of greeting them. She had picked up on the Viking way well, which probably explained why he wasn't all that happy to see her.

"Hey," she said simply.

"Hey," he mumbled back.

Astrid took that as her cue to sit down beside him and so she did, placing herself mere inches away from him. Subconsciously, he scooted over, furthering the distance between them, not feeling all that comfortable with her right now. Apprehensive as he was, the two just sat there in silence, only increasing the awkward feeling shared between them to a level so great it was practically visible in front of them.

Quickly growing frustrated and impatient, Astrid decided to make the first move. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" She blurted out.

Hiccup turned to look at her. "Huh?"

She huffed. "For saying what I said back there. I didn't mean it."

Hiccup's raised eyebrows at that moment sunk down, morphing his gaze into a light glare. "Then why did you say it?"

"I don't know, alright? It's just that my mama and papa have been saying that I shouldn't be hanging out with you anymore." She said. Hiccup's glare turned more intense. Was she really going to use her parents as an excuse to get out of this? The Astrid he knew never used excuses for anything, certainly not for insulting someone she had known and played with since birth.

"Why would your mom and dad tell you something like that?" Hiccup asked, suspicion edging his voice like a razor. Astrid said nothing. "Is it because of what I did?"

"Something like that." She muttered.

"Well, Gobber says that everyone should just forget about it." Hiccup retorted turning his gaze back to the square. "Sure, I messed up big time, and I get it. Nobody has to be mean about it."

The little girl's gaze softened as she looked at her longtime companion, pity etched in her eyes like the runes in the wood and stone that comprised their homes. She personally wasn't very comfortable on the matter, but she could understand the logic in her parents' decision and the insight towards the bigger picture. Their order to her to distance herself from him was made for her benefit, but she figured Hiccup at least deserved an explanation.

"It's not like anybody tries to be mean-"She tried to reason.

"Could've fooled me," Hiccup shot back. His father wouldn't be happy, he could already guess, to learn that he was beginning to pick up Gobber's sarcastic tone.

Astrid let loose a sigh. "You know how I always said I wanna be a shield-maiden?"

Hiccup looked back to her and nodded – it had indeed been a dream of hers to become a warrior and fight on the front lines alongside her father and the others. Most women in the tribe took up household roles like cooking in the Great Hall, even if they barely had the talent for it, or watching over the household. His own mother, who had died when he was born, had settled for the latter alongside helping out at the healers' huts to tend to warriors who had been critically wounded in battle.

But Astrid knew from the very beginning that all she wanted to do with her life was grab an axe and chop off dragon wings and limbs. Hiccup, despite his abhorrence for violence of any kind, could only admire her for knowing so soon what her dream was.

"Well, my papa says it's time I started taking that seriously and start training. And I have to make sure to get rid of any…" she tried her best to be gentle with the next word. "Distractions."

"Distractions?" Hiccup asked, not sure what the word meant.

"You," she said simply. "You're small and clumsy and not much of a fighter. My mama says that people are saying stuff about you and it's not good."

"What kinda stuff?" Hiccup asked in worry. "You mean like the stuff Snotlout was saying before?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Hiccup heard his heart thumping in his chest, slamming against his tiny cage in danger of bursting right out. His hands began to tremble and his lips quivered, letting loose the one question that he dreaded asking from the moment it popped into his mind in the woods. "So people really don't like me… because I'm small and weak?"

Astrid's silence only confirmed it, revealed what was beneath the surface of abnormal irritation for an invention gone wrong and what needed to be done. It was strange, really; for finding out the disturbing truth about how a bully's words were seen as common knowledge to everyone around him, it didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. But that was probably because of everything else happening in that one day that had been culminating up for months, hitting him faster than one of Snotlout's pebbles to the head, leaving him completely numb. The only way to turn it all around was to do the impossible and make a mini-Stoick out of him, and the more Hiccup thought about it happening, changing everything he was to make other people happy, the more he didn't like it.

He gritted his teeth and scowled. "I don't get it. People hate me because I'm small, and you say they don't wanna be mean? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Well, I guess not, but-"

"It's dumb and weird and crazy, but-but everyone's thinking it! Even you!" He stood up quick and pointed at Astrid. "You won't admit it, but you don't like me either; that's why you didn't do anything when Snotlout was picking on me!"

"No, that's not-".

"I thought you were my friend, Astrid, I thought we were always gonna have each other's' backs! But I guess I was wrong – I don't have any friends!" With that Hiccup stormed off away from Astrid who turned to look after him, standing up and following for only a few short paces.

"Wait!" Astrid cried out. "Where are you going?"

"What do you care? Just leave me alone!" Hiccup called out.

"But you're heading for the woods! Your dad says we're not allowed to go in there alone!" She warned, her voice getting louder as he got farther. In truth Hiccup didn't even notice he was once again heading into the forest. But once again, his distressed state blurred out his surrounding environment in his eyes and mind. He just continued marching forward, regardless of whatever consequences he might face once his dad found out.

Anger started to well up in Astrid, released in the form of red-tinted cheeks and clenched fists. She was tired of being put through this guilt-trip that Hiccup was putting down on her, and she admitted that yes, she did at least start to see him as the others did. Guilt and remorse were feelings only belonging to the weak, children were taught, and she was by no means weak. She was a Hofferson, and her clan always faced forward with fierce dignity, regardless of whatever challenge was presented to them. She raised both her arms to her mouth and screamed as loud as she could.

"YOU KNOW WHAT, I TAKE IT BACK! YOU REALLY ARE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE!"

But Hiccup didn't hear her, that or he didn't care. He just marched forward into the trees until he was out of sight.

He went deeper and deeper into the woods until he found a large rock covered in fuzzy moss to sit on surrounded by a group of smaller rocks surrounded by some of the larger, more closely bunched together trees in the forest and sat there, just letting steam out. He crossed his arms and set his face in a scowl that no cheery tune, no funny joke, and no delicious bowl of jam or honey that he loved so when his father brought them could fix.

Just like before, he heard a rustling sound coming from a bush nearby. It was the same level of noise, which gave hints that it was the same type of creature from before. Looking around Hiccup noticed in recollection that he was not that far from the spot where he had tripped and fell before heading back to the village. So perhaps the creature that was rustling inside the bush wasn't just the same kind of creature from before, it was the exact same one.

Again, Hiccup felt fear at what lurked inside the bush, lying in wait to attack and possibly kill him. This time, however, his fear was overpowered by an alarming sense of curiosity. When he thought about it, he was quite curious the last time too, a part of him wanting to go over and just look inside the bush to see what was there. It was quite possible that fear of the unknown was getting the better of him, and it could very well have been just a rabbit or a squirrel like he had first thought. He took a gulp and reminded himself that Vikings were brave and strong, and if he couldn't be a Viking in body, he could at least be one in spirit.

He decided to take the chance and look.

Standing up and sliding off the rock, he dusted his bottom free of residual moss or any dampness from it. He slowly crept towards the bush, taking tiptoe by tiny tiptoe, his steps so gentle they barely made a sound. He reached the bush and reached into the tangle of leaves and branches, parting them away to gain a clearer view, and peered inside.

It was hard to see for a moment, but squinting his eyes he could just make out something amongst the weaving entanglement. Deep inside, he could just make out a pair of wide, acidic green eyes with thin black slits.


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