If any of you feel like strangling me, mauling me, or setting me on fire; I can totally understand. Hell, I'll probably give you my address! I am so, so, so, so sorry I haven't updated in so freakin' long. I had exams up until yesterday and have also been suffering from a near-fatal case of Writer's Block. But if it makes it worth it, there's some major backstory filled with sweetness, wolves and so much "Aw!" in this chapter!

Honestly, this is the longest chapter I have ever written for any of my fan fics. Before this, I think my record was 5,000 words. In the beginning, the backstory was only going to be about Spitfire finding Alani. Nothing more. But then I just got whisked away in the world of my own making and it just kinda went from there.

Also on another note, Spitfire uses some terms that aren't exactly 'normal' so if you have any questions, let me know and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own HTTYD in any way, shape or form, no matter how much I wish it was so.

Enjoy!


~o0O0o~

"So let me get this straight; you wanna go…to Alani's island home…the one she was banished from…to go dragon-watchin'?" Stoick eyed his son questionably. Hiccup shrugged slightly.

"Well, when you say it like that," Hiccup let the sentence die. Instead he watched the chief roll the idea over in his mind.

"And you know what? We'll come back with evidence of a brand-new dragon race we've never even seen before!" Hiccup encouraged. Stoick raised a bushy red brow in interest. Hiccup continued; "Think about it. None of us have ever seen a Sky Serpent before. Maybe because they can't stand the cold this far north, who knows! The village of Berk would sing and tell tales of you who discovered a new race of dragons!"

Stoick frowned slightly, "But you'd be the one who'd discovered them, Son, not I."

"I'm your son and the future chief of this village," Hiccup added, without missing a beat, "Anything I do is reflected upon you."

Stoick smiled and clapped a large hand on Hiccup's small shoulder. The boy's knees nearly buckled under the force but Hiccup managed to stay on his feet. He'd had plenty of years to get used to his father's 'affections' but it still surprised him at the vast difference between the two.

"Well if yeh wanna go that bad, you have my blessin's," the giant of a chief smiled down kindly at his only son. Hiccup watched his father's eyes trailed over him and onto something behind him, "You and you're friends."

Hiccup turned and sure enough, Snotlout, Ruff and Tuff, Fishlegs and Astrid were peaking in through the open door or leaning precariously through the open window. With angry yells aimed at one another, the twins fell through the window's opening and landed on the floor with a crash. Hiccup chuckled, nodded at his father and left hand-in-hand with Astrid.

"So?" she asked slyly, as if she hadn't been eavesdropping on the majority of the previous conversation, "What'd the chief say?"

Hiccup grinned and shrugged nonchalantly, "Oh you know, boring things; catching enough food for the winter, making sure the dragons are properly taken care of, that we got the go-ahead on visiting Alani's island as long as we bring back lots of information and evidence on Sky Serpents."

The group cheered and high-fived each other and Snotlout and Tuffnut punched each other in the face before roaring happily at each other.

Astrid rolled her eyes. Boys.

"So when do we leave?" Fishlegs asked, bouncing in place as excited as the rest. Hiccup shrugged again.

"I don't know. After Alani's fully healed though. I'm gonna head down to the healer's and ask her."

The group of Viking teens headed down to the healer's in masse, talking loudly and excitedly about their future journey to the south. Snotlout and Tuffnut were discussing what the island girls would look like while Astrid and Ruffnut discussed which weapons they should bring in case they were attacked.

They finally reached the hut and Hiccup knocked on the door. No response. Astrid knocked again before entering quietly and disappearing into the healer's house. After a few short moments, Astrid exited the house as quietly as she'd entered, followed by the old woman.

"Alani's asleep." Astrid answered Hiccup's silent question.

"Yeh wish tah know 'bout the wee lass?" the old woman asked. Hiccup nodded and the woman smiled kindly, "She'll be fine. Her wounds are healing nicely but I suggest not leavin' till she's fully healed. So…about three weeks."

Some of the boys in their group sputtered and complained that three weeks would take forever, but Hiccup nodded, thanked the healer and left. If he were being honest with himself, even Hiccup thought three weeks were a long time. But it was in Alani's best interest to heal fully before the long journey to her home. After all, there was no one in their party that had any medical experience beyond a tourniquet and some herbs that when chewed to a pulp and applied to a wound, dulled the pain somewhat. No, that would not do. They would wait, however long it took, and take off with a happy and fully-healed Alani to lead the way.

So to pass the time and still allow Alani plenty of time to heal, the gang bombarded her with more questions about her home. Hiccup took this chance to learn more about the South's customs. He didn't want to accidentally insult someone while he was there because he was ignorant of their ways. Alani was currently covering greetings and basic manners.

"Well, how you greet someone depends on who the other person is. If you're close friends, you can greet them anyway you want; pinching, punching them softly in the shoulder, stuff like that," Alani stressed the word 'softly' to the boys. They nodded curtly and Alani began moving around them to help them practice the proper way to greet, "If you're meeting with someone older or more powerful than yourself, you place your right fist over your heart, yes like that. Now, bow your head slightly- no eye contact! Don't make eye contact with whoever you're greeting. That's considered a challenge." Alani leaned against Spitfire who was sitting and enjoying the sun while her rider taught the hatchlings. The black dragon watched as the black-haired hatchling with the curly-horned head-shield and gigantic nostrils bowed too low and Alani corrected it.

"Just from the head, like this."

Alani clasped a fist to her heart and bowed her head, keeping her eyes to the ground. The gang imitated her and she smiled.

"There you go! Now that's how you'll greet everyone, even those younger than you. And you'll always state your name first. It's only reasonable," she rolled her shoulder, feeling the stitches on her back tug slightly at her skin but not enough to pull them open. Tuffnut leaned on his sister and scoffed.

"Why's that so reasonable?"

The rest of the Vikings, except Hiccup and Fishlegs, murmured in agreement. They hadn't exactly been raised with any etiquette whatsoever, except to respect the Village Chief because he was the strongest among them. Alani shook her head.

"You're strangers from the north. How would you react if someone barged in on your village demanding your names?" Tuffnut lowered his head in understanding and continued practicing the greeting with his sister.

"Alright I think we got that down," Hiccup turned to Alani expectantly, "Anything else?"

Alani nodded, "When you meet Chief Abhay (:Brave and Fearless), who you'll most definitely meet, you'll have to get down on your left knee with your fist over your heart, and announce yourself by name, a title if you have one, and your origins. This is a sign of utmost respect on the island of Nila Itsaso (:sky blue & :Ocean). Here, I'll show you."

Alani went down on one knee, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at her stitches, placed her fist over her heart and bowed her head, "I am Alani of Nila Itsaso." The crimson haired girl rose from the ground, dusting the dirt from her knees. Catching the questioning look Hiccup, she shook her head, "I don't have any titles or anything fancy like that." She smiled and motioned for everyone to try. Hiccup went first. On his knee he placed a fist over his heart, bowed his head and spoke.

"I am Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the 3rd, future Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe on the Isle of Berk in the North," he stated plainly, glancing up to the girl in front of him. She smiled and motioned for him to rise.

"Good. Hold your back a little straighter next time though, okay? Alright who's next?"

Astrid went next. As expected, she performed her formal greeting perfectly. Next came Snotlout and Fishlegs, followed by the bickering twins. Alani clapped her hands excitedly and congratulated them on a job well done.

"I think that's all you'll need to know for know. At least this way you'll make a good first impression on the villagers," Alani made her way with the group up to the Great Hall.

As they dug into the food the barmaid offered them, the topic somehow turned to what the Vikings were going to pack.

"I already have all my things packed," Astrid said before tearing into her roasted meat. She sat to Alani's right and passed her the plate of vegetables that was out of the red-head's reach.

"Mhmmhmm!" Snotlout mumbled in agreement, his mouth full of food. Alani giggled. He reminded her of the squirrels native to her island home.

"So Alani? I was wondering, what kind of stuff should we bring along?" Hiccup asked over the table. Ruffnut pushed her brother off the bench and sat down next to her.

"Well, the South is really warm so you won't need to bring extra clothes," Alani chewed thoughtfully on her broccoli sprinkled with goat-cheese. It was delicious. "You all have something to swim in right? And Hiccup, you'll need your sketchbook and a couple pencils; just in case."

"Alright! I so cannot wait till we can go!" Snotlout roared happily, finally finished swallowing his huge mouth-full of food. Everyone yelled their agreements and tucked into their meals.

Three weeks crawled by slowly. Each and every morning, Hiccup would find the twins up and awake and heading down to the healer's hut to check if Alani had miraculously cured overnight. Unfortunately, Alani joked, she was not blessed with super-human healing.

Every other day or so, the gang would make their way out into the cove and practice their greetings and other things they might need to know. For instance, women were considered equal to men - sometimes even higher - whether they could wield an axe or not. And if the current Chief only had daughters, instead of marrying them off to the strongest male warrior so that he may become the Chief, they were allowed to rule. Needless to say, Astrid and Ruffnut liked that; yes they liked that very much.

Another useful bit of information, were the table manners. On the village of Berk, during great feasts of celebration or those of mourning, the Chief always started. This was very much so on the island of Nila Itsaso. But Chief Abhay would start the each feast with a quick word, thanking Odin for the abundance of food. Occasionally he would add in the recent feat of one of the villagers - Alani's capability to reach the ocean floor had been one such feat and brought up at a feast – before settling in to chat and laugh with his people. The village would dine on meat of all kinds; mostly seafood but they would have deer, cow or goat on rare occasions. And yes, vegetables were a part of the menu. Snotlout and Tuffnut cringed and made gagging and retching noises before Astrid and Ruffnut did the honor of shutting the boys up. While Hiccup was very happy Astrid was his girlfriend and everything, seeing Snotlout limping away to the healer's, sporting a black eye and a bloody lip made him strengthen his resolve to never get on the Viking woman's bad side. She was terrifying.

Two weeks till Alani was deemed fit for flight. The young Viking Heroes were growing antsy. Astrid had taking Hiccup out into the woods to practice her axe-work to vent some of her excitement. Hiccup could still barely lift the heavy weapon so he stuck to watching her slaughter invisible enemies and chopping dead trees to splinters on a nearby rock. The twins had gone back to their usual pastimes; knocking over sheep in the fields, setting fire to Gobber's pants with the help of Barf and Belch, and lazing about the Dragon Training Arena. Snotlout was either working out and showing off his prowess or constantly visiting Alani in the healer's hut. Fishlegs had taken to talking to his Gronkle, cleaning her paws and reading her bedtime stories about faraway dragon knights who saved beautiful dragon princesses being held captive by evil demons.

Stoic had noticed the restless Viking teens and gave each of them jobs that would 'cure' them of their restlessness. The twins were sent to plow the fields, Astrid helped Hiccup out in the forge and Snotlout was forced to help patch up the holes in the roof of each house in the village. Fishlegs was sent to accompany Alani as the poor girl was growing bored out of her mind, lying around and doing nothing due to her injuries. For the next week, all the Viking teens, with the obvious exception of Alani and Fishlegs, went to sleep exhausted every night. No more restless wandering around. Problem solved.

One week till the long-awaited departure. Alani's scars were healing nicely and she was allowed to do more and more everyday. A few days ago, she'd managed all the way to the cove without wincing much, leaning on someone or being carried altogether. After forcing the boys to turn around to preserve the 'maidenly innocence', Astrid and Ruffnut pulled up Alani's shirt to take a look at the scars. The resounding gasp from the two caused the boys to turn around in curiosity. Alani's green shirt was pulled up almost over her head, revealing most of her bare white torso. The scar across Alani's soft middle region was tender to the touch and shiny pink skin was sealing the wounds shut; a sign of good healing. As for the wounds on her back, the three long gashes were taking longer to heal but were doing just as well as her mid-section; another couple days and she could get her stitches taken out. Alani's face had been as red as her hair for hours afterward and she refused to look any of the boys in their faces for the rest of the day.

Six days. Alani went to the healer and got her stitches taken out. Alani hissed slightly as the last thread of her stomach injury was finally pulled out and the healer turned to continued working on her back. Whilst pulling out the treads that had kept Alani from bleeding out, some of the thread's fibers caught her skin and pulled. The healer quickly pulled out a salve and administered it all over Alani's back to stop the blood that oozed out. After bandaging her torso and back, Alani was allowed back outside and into the (careful) embrace of the Viking teens that were waiting for her. They took her to the cove where everyone had prepared a picnic in celebration of Alani's removal of her stitches. They stayed there the rest of the day, playing in the shallow end of the pond and hanging out. Alani was appointed referee, as to not upset her still-healing wounds, as the boys raced each other around the cove. Astrid presented the red-head with a small dagger she'd made in the forge with Hiccup's help. Astrid had forged the blade while Hiccup had made the handle and a sheath with a small dragon on the side. It was beautiful. Everyone laughed and ruffled her hair as tears welled up in Alani's eyes and the red-haired girl thanked Astrid over and over again. The rest of the day, Ruffnut braided blue flowers (Tuffnut had gone to pick them) into Alani's crimson hair as Astrid showed the girl a trick to sharpening a dagger. The boys sat around talking about girls, dragons and punching each other till the sun dipped over the horizon, staining the sky with splashes of oranges, pinks and reds. As they walked back to the village, Hiccup glanced at Alani who was admiring the dagger and showing it to a curious Spitfire. Maybe it was the way the light hit her, or maybe he was just seeing things but Hiccup could've sworn he saw her eyes flash gold as she looked over at him. Alani blinked and sky-blue eyes danced back at him.

Four days. The restlessness from last week was back. Astrid unpacked all her things, only to stare at the contents and pack them back up again. This continued several times over before the blonde Viking took to the forest to dance with her blade. Ruffnut badgered her brother which swim suit she should take. The male twin shot a sarcastic remark and was rewarded with a punch in the face which lead to the two fighting all the way down the stairs of their home to the main plaza in the middle of the village. Snotlout mumbled nervous things under his breath, counting on his fat little fingers and rushing from the Dragon Training Arena to see Hookfang to his house where loud banging and rummaging was heard. Fishlegs skirted around nervously. He'd never been far from home before. The island that held the Dragon's Nest before they'd defeated the Queen was the farthest he'd gone from the Isle of Berk in his life and honestly it wasn't really that far. The South, however, was farther away; by a lot. The island of Nila Itsaso wasn't on any of the maps Berk had so everyone just assumed it was too far south. The thought made the larger-set boy jump around nervously with butterflies in his stomach.

The only one not seemingly affected by the up-and-coming flight to the South, was Hiccup. Sure he was a bit nervous but nothing on the same level as Snotlout or Fishlegs. What if the Sky Serpents attacked while they were flying towards the island? What if they grew tired along the way and crashed into the cruel ocean below? What if, what if, what if. Hiccup's mind was full of them. But he'd put his nervousness to good use. At least that's what he thought. The last few days, Hiccup had situated him in the forge, remaking his old saddle more long-term friendly. He and Gobber had been working on new designs that would be comfortable and strong yet reliable. If Alani's recollection of her travels were anything to go by, then they were in for a very long flight. A very long flight he'd rather had a comfortable saddle to sit on. He'd also taken the liberty of remaking everyone else's saddles as well.

Three days. With the help of the healing salves the healer insisted upon smearing across Alani's closed wounds, the horrible scars that had threatened her life a few weeks prior were now fading into a pale pink. They were still shiny and would probably remain that way for the rest of the girl's life but hey; it was something to tell the grandkids one day.

One day. The Viking teens were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, yelling at parents for misplaced items as they un-packed and re-packed their bags again. They scurried around the village; frantically going over what it was they'd need, sharpening weapons to the point where they dulled again and getting on everyone's nerves altogether. Alani had taken it upon herself to mediate the packing so that everyone would keep their heads and had gathered them in the Great Hall.

"One set of cold weather clothes?" the crimson-haired girl walked down the line of Viking teens much like a general in front of her troops. The group laid out the named items.

"Yup!"

"Check."

"Got it!"

"We got ours!"

"Right here."

Alani checked over the items and deemed them good enough. Leave it to the villagers of Berk to make warm clothes considering it snowed and rained there most of the year.

"Alright. You'll need one set of cold weather clothes and one pair of boots, preferably waterproof. One set of warm weather clothes with maybe a pair of sandals or something," Alani inspected each teen's items, "Ruffnut, you'll only need one bathing suit…"

Ruffnut muttered curses as she was told to unpack god knows how many bathing suits she'd stuffed into her bag.

"Alright, one primary weapon and one secondary?"

Astrid grinned as she laid out her favorite axe. Snotlout had grabbed a short sword and was waving it around as if it were nothing. Ruffnut got an axe while her brother got a mace. Fishlegs held a small axe to himself as if he didn't know what to do with it now that he had it. Everyone's choice of a secondary weapon was a simple dagger. Enormously useful, daggers could be used for cooking, whittling and hunting. Since Hiccup couldn't carry more than a dagger, he pocketed two. Alani herself had carefully strapped the dagger made for her around her waist. Smiling, she allowed her 'soldiers' to pack their things and stepped up towards Hiccup.

"Since you'll be the one drawing the Sky Serpents, you might wanna pack extra pencils and paper," she smiled and turned to pack her own things. She'd borrowed some clothes and a bag from Astrid and Ruffnut. Hiccup rubbed his aching shoulder before slouching down on the bench at her table.

"You exited about going home?"

Alani giggled but stilled her movements, "Hiccup, you've asked me that for the last couple of weeks! Of course I'm exited!" Despite her words, Hiccup saw the way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes and worry danced in her eyes. She'd stiffen every time he'd asked that question over the last week but the girl would always try to laugh it off as nothing. Hiccup sighed. If there was something Alani didn't want to tell him, he wouldn't push.

"Well it's getting pretty late and we'll need our strength tomorrow," Alani yawned before letting out a yelp in surprise as Spitfire appeared behind her and scooped the girl onto her back. The dragoness bounded off to the healer's hut for the night. Spitfire had been hanging out with Toothless a lot while Alani hung out with the Vikings. The two Night Furies had gotten pretty close and Spitfire even allowed Toothless to nap within wing-distance of her without chasing the poor male away with a singed tail. Toothless and the rest of the dragons were as exited as their riders at the thought of traveling to another island. They'd been between the Dragon's Nest and the Isle of Berk plenty of times but none had gone farther than that. The Queen Dragon hadn't allowed then to stray too far, out of fear that they'd fly beyond her control. Spitfire however, wasn't on the same page as the rest of the dragons. She knew going back to that place worried Alani and thus it worried her. It seemed like forever ago since the dragoness had found the little crimson-haired girl wandering around in the forest said to be home to a ferocious beast. Little did the villagers know, Spitfire was the 'ferocious beast' that kept the humans off her hunting ground.

Spitfire was bounding through the trees after a young deer. The unfortunate animal had crossed the dragon's path and the hungry Night Fury hadn't wasted a second in pursuing it. After eating her fill, Spitfire blasted the carcass with a ball of purple fire. She wasn't going to leave any remains for those blasted Sky Serpents, let alone lead them to her hunting grounds. She didn't know what was with 'Odin's blessed Messengers', as the villagers had taken to calling them but they just didn't feel like…dragons. As Spitfire made her way through the underbrush towards the cavern she'd taken to calling home, some rustling to her right caught her attention. Immediately, the large black predator pounced silently to the left; into the shadows cast by the surrounding trees, electric blue eyes trained on the direction of the sound. The rustling grew louder before a small red…thing…fell out into the path Spitfire had been on just moments previous. Spitfire almost huffed in disappointment; with the level of noise the thing had created coming through the underbrush, she'd been expecting something bigger, more threatening. But without so much as a warning or any indication of why, the little thing curled into a ball where it had fallen and wailed. The sound the thing made Spitfire grind her fangs in pain; it felt like a dragon had burned her ears and was chewing them off!

With a loud growl, Spitfire jumped over the bushes concealing her, mind set on ending the noise-maker's life. All that wailing would scare the food away. Obviously the little noise-maker heard the dragon's paws hit the ground; Spitfire wasn't making an attempt at keeping silent, and the red thing looked up at her approaching bringer-of-death, teary sky-blue eyes glued to electric blue. Spitfire stopped in mid-step, paw hanging awkwardly in the air. The little red thing that screamed like a dying dragon, was human! There was a human hatchling in her forest! Spitfire wasted no time in turning tail and disappearing through the thick underbrush.

This was bad; this was very, very bad! Hatchlings weren't ever far from their parents and angry parents were not something Spitfire ever wanted to deal with. And what were the humans doing in her forest anyway? The dragoness had spent years taking advantage of the humans' ridiculous superstitions and 'haunting' the forest, keeping them from entering for fear of a painful death. So why was there a human Hatchling in her domain?

Despite what humans thought about dragons, they were very intelligent and Night Furies were amongst the smartest. Spitfire couldn't kill the hatchling; the villagers would form a search party for the missing hatchling, combing through the woods and scaring away all the prey. That, and it went against her instincts as a dragon. No dragon in his right mind would mindlessly kill a hatchling, no matter the race. Hatchlings were weak and had no chance to defend themselves. Being a Fledgling-Killer or a Nest-Thief would mean certain death by order of Dragon Law. Only Rogues, dragons who'd gone mad, would ever commit such a heinous crime against nature. And Spitfire was no Rogue.

Spitfire slowed her pace when she figured she'd run far enough. The dragon wanted to laugh at herself for worrying so much. The Hatchling's parents would take the little one home to the village and Spitfire wouldn't have to deal with them. Of course, she'd have to scare the villagers a bit to make them stay out of her forest just to be safe. If the villagers knew a dragon lived in their forest, they'd most likely hunt her down or chase her out. That was something Spitfire didn't want; the game here was wonderful and there were countless trees, brooks and hidden caves all over the forest. It was perfect for a lone dragoness such as herself.

Over the next couple days, Spitfire's assumption was sent up in flames. The Hatchling's parents never came to take the little one back to the village. In fact, no one, not a single soul, came to the forest to fetch the little thing. Spitfire would watch it warily from the shadows. The dragoness never showed herself, opting instead to crouch in the shadows, hoping that the youngling would just return to village herself. She'd determined the Hatchling's gender the second day of watching when she'd spied the little one squatting to relieve herself of her fluids. The girl would eat the berries that grew within reach and slept on the ground under some bushes at night. The damned youngling would sniffle and cry herself to sleep every night. Sometimes she'd scream out in her sleep, waking the dragoness in the middle of the night and the predator debated the merits of silencing the human for good. In the end, she did nothing.

Even though Spitfire didn't want to attract unwanted attention to herself and had stopped hunting because of the human girl, her stomach was waging war on her mind and soon enough, it won. Spitfire stalked up on the girl, making sure the little one was busying herself with finding more berries before darting off to the other end of the forest. In less than an hour, the dragoness had felled a young stag that had been prancing too close. Just as she was finishing off the remains, Spitfire caught movement out of the corner of her eyes and turned to face the threat. The young girl, who'd been hiding behind some bushes, gasped and cowered behind a tree. Spitfire's eyes turned to slits and she growled low in her throat, stepping away from her kill and disappeared into the darkness of the woods.

For next few days, the girl seemed to follow Spitfire through the forest, though at a large distance. Whenever the dragon would make a kill and eat her fill, Spitfire would leave, only to spy the human rummaging through it for scraps not long after. The girl would be quick about it too; peering around carefully from her hiding place behind a tree, darting out to the remains of the poor animal and cram as much of the charred meat into her mouth as she could before fleeing to the safety of the trees again.

Spitfire didn't understand. Didn't the Hatchling have enough to sustain herself without having to tail a dangerous predator that just as easily turn around and turn her into a meal? Now that she looked around the Hatchling's poor choice of nesting ground, Spitfire couldn't see a berry in sight. All the bushes that were once teeming with juicy red berries were bare; not a single morsel in sight. Spitfire huffed incredulously. No wonder the youngling had taken to following her!

It had been about seven Suns since the Hatchling had first come to Spitfire's forest before the dragoness saw what the human youngling was truly capable of.

Spitfire had been napping in the sun, stretching out her large black wings and enjoying the warm rays on her body, when she heard a shrill scream. The black dragon recognized that scream; who knows how many times she'd been awoken by that very scream in the dead of night. Taking to the sky, Spitfire flew in the direction she heard the scream. Landing on a sturdy branch in a tall elm, she spotted the red Hatchling running through the trees as fast as her legs could carry her. A lone wolf was on her tail, growling and snapping at her heels.

The girl was terrified, that much was certain; her eyes were wide with fright and her mouth was open in a silent scream yet no sound came out as all her energy was directed towards staying alive. The girl scrambled over a fallen log, ducking out of the way just as the wolf's gaping maws closed on thin air, just barely missing the soft flesh of the Hatchling's arm. She darted around several trees before running out into a large open field. Spitfire internally scoffed at the human Hatchling's poor choice of escape. The girl was as good as dead now. Open fields were a predator's best friend; there was nothing the prey could hide behind, nothing to climb up into, nothing to duck under. As surprisingly fast as this little one was, there was no way she'd make it to the safety of other side of the field before the wolf caught her. Yup, there she goes.

With a snarl, the wolf took a running leap right onto the girl's back, knocking her to the ground. The girl cried out in pain as she scrambled to her knees in the grass facing her soon-to-be killer. The wolf prowled in a wide circle around the girl, growling menacingly at her and snapping at her occasionally, leaving her to whimper like the pathetic little weakling she was. Spitfire rolled her eyes from her perch amongst the elm's branches, tail twitching this way and that in irritation. Cocky predators; as if terrifying their food wasn't enough during the chase, they had to taunt and tease their prey at the end. While Spitfire loved a good hunt and the thrill of the chase excited her like nothing else, she always made quick work of her quarry. To her, there was no point in drawing it out. The poor beasts she hunted deserved at least that much for even attempting to outrun her.

The wolf stopped circling the little one like a vulture; Spitfire knew that this was it, the girl would die. The girl sat crouched in the grass, as if she were frozen to the ground, blue eyes glued to the yellow-black of the wolf's. The Hatchling's hands clawed at something on the ground.

It all happened in only a few seconds. The wolf pounced. The girl screamed and brought up her hands.

Figuring the show was over, Spitfire turned and was just about to fly back to her cave when a loud yelp pierced the silence. Whirling back around, the dragon's whole body slumped against her branch in disbelief as her electric-blue eyes widened as far as they could go. The wolf lay drooping over the girl, twitching and whining. The girl threw the wolf's body off herself, struggled to stand but fell backwards and scrambling away from it as fast as she could. She was covered in blood, but none of it was her own. The wolf tried howling in pain but only managed a wet gurgle as its life blood seeped into the ground through a deep gash in its neck. The girl stared in horror at the blood that almost covered her from head to toe and she was making weird strangled noises. It reminded Spitfire of a rat she'd caught in her cave once; she'd 'played' with it until she'd gotten bored and killed it. Crawling slowly towards the dying wolf's body; the weak, helpless, fragile little human Hatchling did something Spitfire never saw coming.

She cried.

The little one fell to her knees an arm's length away from the dying wolf, and cried. She cried so hard, Spitfire could see the spasms that racked her body. The youngling looked at something clutched in her hand before giving out an almighty cry, throwing the object away from her with everything she had. The offending object hit the base of Spitfire's tree and she narrowed her eyes to see what it was from her perch.

It was a rock; sharp-edged and covered in blood, it was about the size of one of her talons. So that's what she'd clawed out of the ground before the wolf attacked! She'd used a rock to fend off a wolf! If Spitfire were her Dam, she'd be very proud of the little one. But the little one was not her own and Spitfire eyed the girl in the field in confusion.

She'd won. She'd survived. So why was the Hatchling acting like this? Was it her first kill? She should be proud and taking the wolf's body home to present to her Sire and her Dam, not wallowing in despair like a weakling. Why was she acting so pathetically frail over the predator, that had just a few moments ago, tried to kill her?

As Spitfire continued trying to make sense of the youngling's strange behavior, the Hatchling continued to cry over the wolf. When the poor beast's body stopped moving, she scooted closer to it and petted down its bloody fur, sobbing the whole time. She remained where she was, crying and covered in blood, long after the corpse had cooled. The sun had dipped just below the horizon before the Hatchling finally picked herself up from the ground and staggered back into the woods that lead to her sad excuse of a nest. Spitfire flew ahead of her, landing a safe distance away from the clearing that the Hatchling would undoubtedly enter in a little while. Sneaking forward using the shadows as cover, the dragoness waited for the human Hatchling.

Spitfire didn't even know why she bothered coming here. But dragons were curious creatures by nature and right now, Spitfire cursed that part of herself. Humans were dangerous and killed anything they deemed a threat or anywhere below them. They destroyed forests to make homes for their growing numbers, not caring about the hundreds of defenseless animals whose homes were ruined in the process. They were all this and more, and yet, this girl, this human Hatchling, cried over the death of a moon-brother, a wolf and her would-be killer. Spitfire knew what humans thought of wolves; she'd seen countless skins hung up for decoration or worn by the leaders of their flock. What she didn't understand was why the girl would cry for the enemy like that. It just didn't make any sense.

A rustling in the bushes alerted Spitfire to the girl's arrival. She stumbled over something in the near-dark and didn't bother catching herself. The Hatchling crashed into the ground, barely uttering a sound. She crawled forward, slowly, wearily, towards her nest under some bushes. Spitfire didn't move for a while even as the girl's whimpers and sobbing quieted and she fell asleep. When she was sure the youngling was asleep, the dragoness snuck forward, one tentative paw at a time until she loomed over the little one curled up on a bed of leaves. She sniffed the girl and almost sneezed. Great blazing fires, the child smelled! The over-powering scent of the wolf's blood as well as seven Suns' worth of filth was almost too much for poor Spitfire's nose.

The dragoness just about reared back just to shake the stink from her nose when a loud grumbling broke the silence. The Hatchling's face scrunched up in pain and for a moment Spitfire thought she would wake. But the child just turned over on her side and continued sleeping. The grumbling sound was heard again and this time Spitfire searched it out. It came from the sleeping Hatchling. The dragon's eyes softened into round orbs as she observed the sleeping youngling. She was hungry. Thinking back, Spitfire tried to remember when the last time she'd seen the girl scavenge through her left-overs for something to eat. The berries had been out of the question for several days now; there were none around last time she'd looked. And it had been several days since Spitfire had last watched the girl eat from the remains of her meals.

Spitfire sat back on her hind legs and observed the sleeping child. The silence of the night was broken only by the chirping of the nightly insects, the wind stirring through the trees, the girl's soft snores and the occasional grumbling of her stomach. The dragoness nodded to herself, seemingly confirming whatever course of action she'd decided on, before turning and disappearing into the woods.

The next morning, Spitfire found the Hatchling up and wandering about aimlessly. The girl's feet took her down numerous paths, only to end up back at her nest. The Fire-In-The-Sky had traveled half-way across the blue expanse of cloudless sky before the child finally gave up whatever she was doing and curled under her bush, crying softly. Spitfire took this opportunity and took off to where she'd last spotted a herd of deer grazing. Picking out a small one, a young buck just barely sprouting his horns, Spitfire pounced, tackling the poor creature to the ground and ran her claws down its throat. The results were instantaneous. The young buck hadn't even managed to scream a warning to the rest of the herd before its spirit left its body to join his ancestors. The rest of the herd had however, heard the buck's body hitting the ground and screamed in fear at the black huntress, bounding away as fast as they could. Spitfire paid them no mind as she set to work. Tearing open the buck's belly, she gathered a small ball of fire at the back of her throat. It took several shots of her deadly purple fire before the meat turned black; not charcoal, just black. Happy with her work, Spitfire slipped into to a clearing near the Hatchling's nest, carrying the dead buck along. The dragon dumped the meat on the ground and snuck to where the Hatchling nested.

Sure enough, the smell of charred meat woke the youngling from her fitful rest. The girl's stomach grumbled loudly, demanding sustenance. She glanced around her before crawling out from under her bush and onto her feet. Spitfire watched warily from her hiding place in the shadows as the Hatchling stepped closer and closer towards the other clearing where the food awaited. It didn't take the child long to spot the food, for as soon as she did, the little one threw herself at it, tearing into it hungrily. Spitfire almost pitied the girl but she was too busy congratulating herself on a good job. It had been the first time she'd 'cooked' anything and was very proud that the human was enjoying the meal. On several occasions where the dragon had flown over the humans' village, she'd seen them lay slabs of meat over fires before eating it. And she'd never seen them eat it raw.

The Hatchling exclaimed something out loud drew Spitfire out of her self-appointed congratulations. The girl was looking skyward, tears streaming down her pale face with a smile brighter than the Fire-In-The-Sky. Spitfire stared. What was with this Hatchling and crying? But judging by the smile on the girl's face, they weren't the same kind of tears she'd shed over the wolf. Spitfire's eyes softened before turning away and returning to her cave, leaving the girl to her first meal in days.

Weeks passed by. Ever since that day, whenever Spitfire went hunting, she'd leave more and more left-overs for the girl to eat. She'd always cook it before leaving it, but only after she'd eaten her fill of raw meat. Something about the cooked meat, the texture or maybe the way it went down, didn't feel the same to the dragon so she left the cooked meat to the Hatchling. The girl would watch her from behind a tree, probably thinking the dragon couldn't see her, and wait till after the dragon left before darting out to eat whatever was left over. One time, the girl stepped out from behind the tree into plain sight. As soon as Spitfire laid her eyes on the girl, the little one yelped and disappear behind her tree again.

Over time though, the Hatchlings grew bolder.

The first couple days, she'd announce her presence by snapping a twig –as if Spitfire didn't know she was there in the first place - and acknowledge the dragon's gaze before plopping down on the ground several trees away.

Then she'd sit one tree closer, just watching the dragon eat her fill before charring the meat and walking away.

Another tree closer, and then another. This continued until the girl sat barely a wing-span away. Spitfire could have reached out with her tail and brushed up against the Hatchling's leg if she wanted to.

Eventually Spitfire didn't bother walking away from the kill like she usually did. Lying down just beside the kill, Spitfire curled her tail around herself and shut her eyes. If the girl wanted to eat, she'd have to eat beside the dragon. The dragoness half-expected the girl to sneak up, snatch the meat and run away as fast as she could. The other half, the half Spitfire didn't fully understand, hoped that the little one trusted her enough to sit beside her and eat her fill.

What she didn't expect was the sudden, warm hand on the edge of her wing, the wing closest to the meal that awaited the youngling. Spitfire tensed but didn't move. She was curious as to what would make the Hatchling touch her.

The Hatchling didn't move her hand from the dragon's wing. Instead, she moved her hand along the edge of the wing slightly before bringing up her hand and doing the same motion again. The girl was petting the dragoness, saying something in her human tongue. The soft petting, the gentle voice; they could only add up to one thing in Spitfire's mind.

'Thank you.'


Aaaw! So much sweetness! Let me know what you think and again, I am so, so , so sorry for not updating earlier. I'll work on that next time.