When Hiccup's running from the huge red fire spewing dragon he has more important things to think about other than how potentially girly his screams sound. Everything is ringing loudly in his skull and his feet are slipping over bucket-water-wet grass hills, but he's pretty sure that they're an octave above what's considered a normal teenage boy's vocal range. He can't bring himself to care, really. Hands scrambling against the stone pathways of the village he desperately pushes his body forward until he lurches behind a tall, solid stalk of wood used to hold up fire pits. Feeble wrists are held parallel to his chest in a weak attempt of protection and his are clenched and he marvels at how they can still be fists because they're so sweaty they must be incredibly slick. Hair falls in front of his adrenaline lit green eyes when he turns his head to see if the Nightmare is still behind him, and just his luck he looks the wrong way.

Hiccup can sense it, the mass of heat behind him, thank the gods he doesn't have enough time to turn around ; because a growling mass leaps before him and meets the dragon horns on. His head whips around and his wide eyes struggle to keep up and process the scene before him (though, it's a pretty regular occurrence) as Stoick the Vast crouches before the Monstrous Nightmare. It's hooked claws scrape the dirt, flinging chunks behind it, and narrows it's eyes; a snarl birthing down the wide snout. His chest rises and falls rapidly as the dragon opens it's maw wide and..lets loose a pathetic excuse of fiery breath. Coagulated chunks of red slopping to the ground and weakly fizzling. The reptilian eyes blink and the dragon physically shrinks back. Stoick smirks, "You're all that?"

Huge fist fly and grunts leave both mouths as Stoick collided with scaled hide, and Hiccup can already feel a gulp rising in his throat. A screech and well placed kick later and the Nightmare has turned tale and made to flee, spiked wings hurrying to lift it from the ground and away from the Viking. A final grunt from Stoick means the end of the fight. Oh, and, there's one more thing you need to know. When Stoick turns on him and he feels the weight of those eyes he knows what's coming, though he hopes this time will finally be different. Hiccup's shoulders hunch and he feels his own eyes flit around not wanting to meet the chief's.

"Sorry, dad," and it fizzles out pathetically to a tense silence. Or what would have been a tense silence if it wasn't for screams and dull metallic thuds of the fire pit raced down the island to meet the crashing waves. The raid is over, and the dragons have clearly won today.

Stoick doesn't grace him with an answer, just watches him and no doubt listens to the victorious cries of the beasts in the distance.

"Okay, but I hit a Stormcutter," Hiccup tries again. The enormous hand of his father suddenly grips his by the scruff o his collar and his feet leave the ground Stoick drags him away, brisk and no doubt fuming with embarrassment under his beard, cheeks red. Though that could have been from the exhilaration of the battle.

His hands flail, "It's not like the last few times, dad. I mean I really actually hit it. You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot. It went down, just off Raven Point. Let's get a search party out there, before it-"

"-Stop! Just, stop," Stoick interrupted his suddenly, dropping his fast. It's silent as the village watches the father and son. Stoick continued, "Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter's almost here and I have an entire village to fed!"

Hiccup blinked, "Between you and me the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think? " Shuffles and a few grunts follow his words, and he feels a little bad for a moment, but then it leaves him at his father's next words.

"This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" and he knows that. He wishes they wouldn't take him as just a joke. Stoick shakes his head, "Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

His shoulders move in a way he'll think later is perhaps a nervous habit or reflex and, "I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just-" he makes a strange motion with his hands, "kill it, you know? It's who I am, Dad."

One of the chief's meaty hands reaches up to knead his eyebrows, "You're many things, Hiccup. But a dragon killer is no one of them."

Nods swarm the crowd making it look like a wave and Hiccup tries not to let the hurt show.

"Get back to the house, " his father orders him. Then turns to Gobber as though he's no longer there. "Make sure he gets there. I have his mess to clean up."

Stoick leaves in the opposite direction and Gobber nudges his forward, urging him to go home, because everyone thinks that's where he belongs. As he trudges he can hear murmurs and harassment including, "Quite the performance."

"I've never seen anyone mess up that badly. That helped!" Snotlout practically bellows in his face.

He gives him a cursory, "Thank you, thank you. I was trying, so," and doesn't dare meet the furious eyes of Astrid.

When he's at he front steps to his hut he tries to tell Gobber a bit dejectedly, "I really did hit one."

"Sure, Hiccup."

"He lever listens," he tries again.

Gobber snorts, "Well, it runs in the family."

Hiccup pressed on, "And when he does, it's always with this..disappointed scowl. Like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich." He squared his jaw and stuffed his small fists into the curve of his hip bone under his shirt in an admittedly good impression of his father. "Excuse me, barmaid. I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring. I ordered an extra large boy with beef arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here-" he gestured to a stair "- This is a talking fish bone."

The large blonde Viking waved his arms in a 'bah' gesture. "You're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like. It's what's on the inside that he can't stand," he bared a reassuring, rocky smile.

Hiccup blinked a moment and forced his mouth to shut from it's open, very fish like position, "Thank you, for summing that up."

He reaches for the door knob and Gobber sighs, "Look, the point is, stop trying so hard to be something you're not."

"I just want to be one of you guys."

Pushing open the door before Gobber can say anything else he hurried inside, shutting it fast. That time Gobber really did go "Bah," and wave his make shift arm. Turning and descending the wood steps.

Not many seconds later was Hiccup bursting through the back door, almost tripping in his eagerness, and rushing off into the woods. Determined to prove to himself, and his father, that he is one of them.

Hiccup took a breath, his eyes clenched shut, and prayed to the gods. Then he opened them fast and they darted around the forest before him. When he sees nothing he sighs and scratches another 'X' on the crudely drawn map in his notebook. Annoyance overtakes him for a moment and he drives the pencil into the paper, pushing hard and scribbling until the pages are almost illegible. After the pages have been sufficiently punished as though they were at fault he snaps the small book shut and sheaths it in his vest.

Looking to the skies he let out his breath in a huff, "Ugh, the gods hate me. Some people lose there knife or a mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an entire dragon."

He reached out and whacks a low-hanging branch, grunting when it whips back in retaliation unlike his book. Covering his eye be turns the good one up to study the offensive tree and finds it's been snapped rather violently, and the break looked fresh. Sap still dripping from the wounded tree like tears. Lowering his hand as green eyes turn to the raw, upturned earth before him, carved out by something large. Taking his hand from his eye he scurries to the ridge of the hill where the dirt breaks, and hesitantly pokes his head over. Only to whip it back down and lose the air in his lungs when he catches only a glimpse of a scaled body.

Dear Gods.