Nice, to, meet you, where've you been? I can show you incredible things! Stories, plot twists, cliffhangers, I saw the plot and I was like, "Oh my word, look at that spot! It's the perfect place to start! Pick a cliffhanger, start to wriiiiitttteeeeee.

Okay, I'm done. Shout-outs:

Wanli8970: No, I have not forgotten about her human conscience. :D I'm so glad you seem to be liking it so far! I hope you like it till the end! :D

silverwolvesarecool: Flamerose is really pretty, but yes, I already do have a name picked out, but could I use Flamrose for maybe another fanfiction? It's awesome! :D

Edlover23: Oh yeah, me too (P.S. I will try to have your chapter back to you by Wednesday). :)

VulcanTrekkie: Aww, thank you SO MUCH for saying that! That made my day! :D

Silver Electricity: Put him on a leash...LOL. :D

CoverGirl7210: Okay, sweet! Sounds great! :D

ElskaHiksti: YES I LOVE WHEN LIGHTNING STRIKES! I think it was a bit of a strange episode at first, but then I LOVED IT! :D

AnimeAngel: I'm still trying to think of a way to write that one-shot about how the twins discover coffee! :D STORMFLY AND TOOTHLESS VALENTINES DAY LIKE TOOTHLESS COULD GIVE HER A LITTLE FLOWER AND SHE COULD PUT IT BEHIND HER HORN AND THEN CAN DO LITTLE DRAGON VALENTINES DAY THINGS LIKE SO CUTE ON MY GOOODDDNNNNEEESSSSS! Sparkglider is trying to convince me to go to bed, but NOOOOOOOOO! I NEED TO WRITE MORE AND *snores*

Lucy-1997: Thanks! Makes me glad! :D

HiccupHaddockIII: So I should do the one-shot? *grins* YEP! FUN! LOVE IT! :D

"HICCUP!"

"NO!"

"SON!"

"DAD! NO!"

I woke up again to the horrible memory as it flashed through my mind for the utmost time. I was breathing heavily, and sweating, not only from the memory, but also because I was ill. I knew it now; there was no mistaking it. I was ill. Very ill. I needed help, but there was no where to go, and nothing to do. That Typhoomerang tried to kill me. What was left for me to do then?

I could build a raft, somehow. Yeah, that was probably my only option at the moment. I couldn't train the dragon, and I couldn't ride it or anything, either, in that case, and that left me with the alternative: build small raft-like-thinga-ma-jigger, find Toothless, and then get back to Berk.

I looked out of the crack in the overhang; the Typhoomerang was no where to be seen. Good. Slowly but surely, I dragged myself out from the gap between the rock and the ground, grabbing my walking stick as I went about the task of walking. My broken leg felt worse than it had yesterday, if that was even possible, and I leaned all my weight on my prosthetic and "crutch."

I started walking towards the beach, limping more than anything else. I stumbled a few times, the sand shifting unevenly beneath my feet, making it hard to keep a steady pace, but I somehow managed it.

I got to the shore, and started trying to think of something to help me get back to Berk. I didn't exactly see any vines through the forest, and I certainly didn't have any ropes on hand. That was a big of a problem...plus, I didn't know how well I could build a sturdy raft fit for the ocean in my condition.

I decided to try, even if I had no way of binding the sticks I chose for the raft together. I would find something. I just had to, or else, I knew I would be stuck on this island for who-knew-how-long.

As I started gathering resources, I heard a whip crack out in the distance. Whipping around in the direction from whence it came, I saw a small mound of sand, hiding whatever commotion was going on from my view.

Forgetting about my raft, and my escape altogether, I scrambled over to the dune, looking over it, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

I gasped as soon as I learned. It was the Typhoomerang; the one who was trying to kill me. But that wasn't exactly what was so shocking. There were men around her, throwing ropes at her to tie her down while she struggled against them.

"HEY!" I shouted, not so certain what made me do so. The men turned to me as I stumbled down towards them, trying to run while at the same time trying to be careful as so I didn't trip and injure my leg further.

The men tying down the Typhoomerang turned to me, pausing in their work as I stumbled towards them. I didn't recognize any of them, even slightly; they looked like pirates, by the way they dressed in tattered clothes, and by the weapons they carried with them. They were cutlasses, curved with slight unevenness, some of the blades dented. There were about twenty of them total, along with a ship anchored on the island.

One of them, looking taller and older than the rest, was standing directly in front of the dragon, holding a whip. So that's what I had heard. The whip crack.

I stepped between the man and the dragon, holding my walking stick as if it were a club. I was ready to use it for one, too, to defend the dragon who had tried to previously take my life.

"Step aside, boy," the leader said, lowering the whip, although he looked ready to use it again at any given moment. I didn't budge, holding my ground, resisting the urge to just let the leader do whatever he wanted to do with the Typhoomerang.

"I said," the leader repeated, getting right in my face, "step aside, boy."

"I refuse," I blurted blatantly. I drew my dagger ever so slowly, holding it in one hand, my walking stick in the other. The leader only laughed.

"Don't you know who I am?" he asked me.

"Not really," I said.

"I am Tyron," said the leader. "Tyron the Terrible. And I'll let you know, Boy, that that name was earned."

"Tyron?" I laughed. "How'd you earn that?" On any other day, I wouldn't have said something like that, but this wasn't exactly any other day.

Tyron glared. "And who are you?" he asked.

"I," I said, taking a deep breath for a dramatic effect, "am Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, Chief of Berk, conqueror of dragons, rider of the Night Fury, son of Stoick the Vast. And let me tell you something, too." I took a step forward, looking straight into the pirate's pale eyes. "That title was earned."

Tyron didn't seem taken back, while the rest of his soldiers hesitated.

"Chief of Berk," Tyron mocked. "Ha. Some Chief, limping around here with what looks like a broken leg. You look pale, too. Sick or something?" He laughed, and I felt heated with rage and anger. "Chief of Berk, son of Stoick the Vast," he cackled. "Liar."

"Am I?" I asked. Then, I turned around, and sliced two of the ropes holding the Typhoomerang down. The dragon shrieked, whacking soldiers to the side with her tail in an absolute enrage. Tyron looked a bit taken back now, just as I smacked him upside the head with my walking stick. He fell to the ground, nearing unconscious. However, he still managed to kick my bad leg with his foot, causing a tremor of pain to shoot through my leg and move over my body. I sank to the ground, gripping my leg and groaning in pain.

Tyron jumped to his feet and ran, leaving his satchel and cutlass behind, probably not noticing that he had done so. He fled towards his ship, followed by his men who were escaping the rage of the Typhoomerang. I fell sideways, resting against the sand, ignoring the roaring of the dragon.

If it was going to kill me, then there was nothing I could have done about it.