I'd like to thank those who have PM'd me with ideas for this chapter. Enjoy, and please give me your thoughts for the next three days after this. Thank you!

italics = thought

Disclaimer: Yeah, you guessed, I own nothing.

I opened my eyes the next morning to find my world cloaked in darkness; after waking up to the same scene for the past few days before, I knew what was going on. I lifted my hand up in the blackness until it was stopped by a supposedly invisible barrier, but it was really just Glint's wing; you could tell just by the sharp leather texture of it. My hand followed the wing's grain to my left, knowing the slope, as it inclined towards Glint's body. In my shade-blinded state I had to say that I was doing well as I felt around his shoulder blade and searched for the crook of his neck, finding my way right behind his incredibly floppy ears I began to scratch. If anything could wake a dragon besides fish and kiddy grass, this newfound (well, new to me anyway) technique could.

Yup, as proven, Glint woke rather nicely. He stood up with a dragon yawn and started purring like crazy as my fingers continuously raked across his neck. He ducked his head low, giving me more access around his nape, and I obliged vigorously. I ran my fingernails around his collar bone, he was rumbling like a giant cat, and moved upwards below his jawline. His purr was now that of rolling thunder, and I know, 'cause I got to feel the vibration it gave because he had collapsed over on top of me! I thought back to dad's old stories he used to tell all the little kids, distinctly the one with him scratching under Toothless' chin; this must have been the reaction described. Thinking back to my dad's adventures, I pondered life before mom's accident.

They (the other kids) all had made my father their deity, because of the wonderful tales he recounted, always saying "so cool!" and "weren't you scared?". He'd always reply with "of course! Who wouldn't be?" to the latter question, I used to ask that kind of thing every time the village children would gather for a good yarn from him. I used to idolize my dad . . . what had happened? What part about him had I forgotten along the road? He was still the same, maybe I was just looking at him differently. The idea was not exactly a self esteem booster, that I was again the reason that the two of us couldn't see eye to eye-well, eyes to eye. My fault, why is it always my fault? Then again . . . when did he ever burn the bridges? When did he look out to hurt my feelings? Heh, I guess that's where guys like me excel. Everything I've ever done in life has been wrong.

I was rudely jerked back to reality by the burning realization that with Glint on top of me it was rather hard to breathe. The tooth-rattling rumble that was conducted through my body tickled slightly, which didn't exactly help my air intake at all. Hoarsely huffing at the sensation, I tried to push the mass of pure unmovableness off my body. Apparently only some of grandad Stoic's strength had seceded to me; I wasn't exactly as thin as dad had been as a kid, but I wasn't by any means the "extra-large boy with beefy arms" either, right now I was the "happy"-ish medium of both. Needless to say, I failed epicly as the black napper's body resettled on top of my own. Oh-crap-oh-crap-oh-crap-ooh-craaap! Dear Woden what a sorry way to go! Hehe, here lies Karma Haddock IIII who was viciously slain by a sleeping dragon! I mused to myself in mock drama, pushing again at the rock heavy load. How long until he gets back up!

It took a remarkably long while for the comatose dragon to regain his consciousness, the sun had risen up from its bed on the horizon, and my legs and lower torso had grown numb with pressure and disuse. There it was, he moved! Again! And again! He lazily got up and pawed off me, giving me a semi-worried look of "what were you doing under me, you know you could have been crushed!". Y'know, I'm getting pretty tired of everyone giving me that look! I hereby place a ban upon all worried stares! All in favor raise your left hand, that's your right hand dear counselor, I consulted to the council inside my head, imagining all of them raising their hands. Yes, I admit it, I was getting into the horrible habit of talking to myself, which signified that I was either going crazy, having too much alone time (which really just tied into the first), or just having no one to truly talk to and have them talk back. I mean Glint's a great friend and all, but I could question if he understood me; he doesn't exactly listen to what I tell him.

Morning proceeded in a uniform fashion, which was odd because I am the king of disorder; I would call myself the god of disorder but apparently Loki stole that position . . . darn him. While Glint disappeared off to do whatever he does each morning, I took to my usual perch atop my boulder over the water. I had become an expert at tying and untying knots now, and employed the skill wonderfully as I unfastened my eyepatch. I had also started training myself to look at things calmly, but that wasn't working as well as desired in this situation.

Yellow sticky stuff had gummed up in my eyelid again, it was still moist and fresh; this would be the first to get cleaned. Salt water was now a necessity to my morning ritual of cleaning my-no "the slit", I had no intention of claiming such a thing as my own, seeing as it burns away at the puss goop that crusted up on my eyelid. I cupped my hands together, brought up a hand-bowl full of the salty seawater, and pressed the edges of my hands around my eyed, somewhat sealing the water up against my face. It burned like soap in my eye, but what else was new, it did that every time. When I felt sufficiently stung, I opened my hands up and let the fouled water cascade down my face. How much worse can this get?

I rubbed away any remaining snot material, and pried my e-no "the slit" open. A light trickle of milky liquid welled up and out, I brushed it away with my fingers and dipped my hand into the morning tide again to clean them off. The eye-white was no longer a stain of yellowed milk, but had either cleaned out or gotten worse into a purer hue like that of the fish oil we used in our lamps back home. I cringed as the blind range of sight, that which my left eye couldn't see past, was illuminated in bright vibrant colors parallel to my left vision. Apparently my ey-no "the slit" was not completely dead, but there was a thin ridge down the middle of my right vision that looked like a light ripple in the symmetric halves of sight. I didn't think that I would have to do much more cleaning past what I had already done; I thought of putting salt water in my eye, but was not particularly fond of the stinging sensation I knew it would cause. I closed my right eye and examined the scar; the skin had somewhat bound together, meaning that it would really be a scar by the end of this week. The end of this week . . .

That is it! There are three days left, and by the gods I want to do something! I decided with an iron resolve, I just sat around for most of the time and now I was going to get active, get out, and have some friggin fun! What to do, what to do, I pondered to myself as Glint came waddling through the trees with breakfast. My concentration shattered once this morning's fish landed in my lap and would not be regained, therefore I ate to rid myself of the distraction. It was hard to recall what about raw fish had been so bad. Was it the taste? Tastes fine to me. Texture maybe? Once you know what your doing, you can get past even that. Maybe it was just the thought process that makes it so hard to stomach, the idea that you just ate a fish raw and that that's gross. I was sure that was it; you brace yourself to taste something gross and as such only taste what you prepare for. That makes sense, yeah, I should go into philosophy. No wait! Greeks and Romans use philosophy and we hate them!

I took the prickly fish bones and the fish guts laced therein, and chucked them out to the foamy waves beyond. My mind could now return to the current, serious matter: What should I do to have a bit of fun on this rock? I got into the classic thinking pose on my rock, one leg draped over the boulder, the other fully bent with one arm wrapped around its knee and the other arm supporting my chin while its elbow rested on the knee. Glint sauntered up next to me and with two legs sat on his tale like a man on a chair. I saw, out of the corner of my left eye, that he was watching me like he was waiting for something.

"Well what do you think we should do?" I asked, annoyed that he was acting all impatient. His eyes moved to the ground in thought, yeah that's right, you can't think of anything either. But he did think of something, or at least looked like he did as he started moving. He started by laying down flat on his belly next to my boulder, his front two paws covering over his eyes. He then took the paws off and got up slowly, looking around warily. He started to walk away from my rock, but his composure was different, his legs bent oddly and lifting up too high with each step; almost like he was trying to sneak. He then quickly got back to his first position next my rock, covering his eyes, before darting out into the empty spot where he once stood seconds ago. I was horrible at charades, the other kids knew me by it, they could perceive in seconds what took me hours; we used to laugh about it.

"Hunting?" I asked trailing off at the end. Must not have been, judging by the way Glint angrily jumped up and down like he were screaming "NO, YOU DUMMY". Well then what? What is it? I thought while giving a flabbergasted, and blank, stare. He repeated the actions previous once more, jumping back to face me while looking expectant. My head just bobbed in a circular pattern, pretty much saying "yeaaaa-no"; Glint lowered his head and shook it like he were sighing. He repeated his act. Nope, still nothing . . .

" . . . Wait-one more time again?" I asked, now completely confused. He growled angrily.

It went like that for about ten minutes; him doing an odd charade, and me utterly failing to comprehend. After Glint added a few new actions, like hiding behind a rock, and I learned to disregard the movements in between acts, the whole thing came together. There where two people interacting one was sitting there with his eyes closed, and the other sneaking away. The first follows the second and-I don't know, think he pounces or somthin'. It took me a moment to dumb it down . . . Bingo! Hide and Seek! He wants to play hide and go seek!

"Ooh, got it. Who's hiding?" I asked him after my realization. He nudged me off my rock, pushing me out into the woods. "Okay, okay, I'm hiding! I get it!" I could swear that he had understood what I had asked, either that, or just lucky timing. I looked back at Glint, laying with his paws over his eyes, before jogging through the sand, realizing a problem. Darn it, I'm leaving tracks!

I scanned around and found a branch of palm leaves, then scraped it over the indents I had left in the sand. Now the sand didn't look like someone had walked through it, it looked like someone had been dragged across it while flailing. Yeah, these are totally inconspicuous, I thought sarcastically as I dragged my tracks-brush behind me. The first ring of the island was past me, I was now wandering into the jungle. Good thing TJ shipped out after that night, otherwise I'd be sooo dead if I went in here.

I stepped down hard on the soil as I entered the greener part of the island. Satisfied that the indent it left was by no means visible by quick speculation, I ditched my brush and sped up. I tried not to breathe too hard, I knew what dwelt within the trees; one wrong move and the Terrors would be on me like mosquitoes. Where to hide, I asked myself, or more importantly, where would a dragon look. I was sure that if I wanted to hide from a dragon I would have to think like a dragon . . . except I don't know how a dragon thinks! I wandered through the trees, taking note of anything that could hint at a dragon hiding inside; I didn't want to find myself in another situation like the last few times I came through these woods. My breathing was getting a little ragged, I needed a place to stop.

I found my way to a clearing with a large rock at one side, I decided rest up against the boulder. As I leaned there I noticed something shining in the grass, the morning sun glinting off its sharp edges. I leaned over and picked up the sparkling object, recognizing it instantly. It was my knife, dirty and a slight tinge of rust blooming around its edges, but the design was unmistakeable. How had it gotten here, I asked, looking around once more. I recognized this clearing, my encounter with the Nadder took place here; that must have been why the blade was here! I looked around some more, my eyes finally resting on another shining object; that must have been the hand-axe. I picked it up as well, completely distracted from my current task of hiding, and started walking.

Through the woods in a straight, indefinite direction, I was sure that I would find the shore eventually. And I was right, after the ground inclined for a while I found myself standing at the cliff's edge; looking along the ridge, I could see where Glint and I would usually jump down from to get to his cave. I looked up; the sun had reached its highest point already, bathing the island in hot summers light. I looked the north (I had learned that you could locate it if you used the sun), as usual, there was a massive cloud bank foreboding a storm in Berk. I was privileged to be only eleven days north of hopeless, twelve would have put me smack-dab in the middle of that weather. I looked around me once more, checking to see if there were any signs of life around me. Confident that there weren't I brought the knife back in my hand, coiled up, and threw the little dagger out into the open air past the cliff. I hefted the hatchet next to my head and sent it twirling in mayhem over the edge, watching its little glints coupled with the knife's as they plummeted towards the deep blue. I felt relieved when they sliced into the water, never to be used or seen again. Not my problem anymore.

Relieved of my distraction, I turned and faced the jungle. Lets get our game faces ON! The true hide and seek begins now!

(View switch, lets see what Glint's doing shall we?)

Glint had decided that he had waited long enough, he had taken his paws off his eyes a long time ago and now was fully ready. His friend had probably found a hiding spot, and now he would have the pleasure of tracking him down. He didn't plan to fly in this game, that would make it too easy, no he would walk this once. He had found the first trail to follow, his friend's tracks in the sand, leading inland. Glint walked carefully along the footprints, expertly finding his friend's scent laced in. He followed the trail until it changed from footprints to plowed dirt, still smelling his friend among the scribbled ground. He wove serpentinely around the trees following the prints every step of the way, and soon found himself standing at the mouth of the jungle; the tracks ended here, but "his" scent remained.

It was completely up to Glint's sense of smell now, every whiff would bring him closer to victory. Confidently, he padded onward.

An hour had past, and Glint hadn't even caught sight of the boy. The scents had just become too mixed up, with so many pathways of the same smell it was hard to identify which one to follow. Glint wanted to catch his friend and do something else, this was just too frustrating! Was this boy really even a viking? A true viking couldn't sneak and shake tracking so well, this one must have been the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself! Fast as lightning, and silent as death. Glint was thoroughly convinced that his friend was a master in the art of running and hiding. He growled angrily, where was the right string of smell!

An orange Terror chirped up above, its tone rude and patronizing. Glint gave a light roar, followed by growls and guttural sounds. Now to an average man this sounded just as it was previously described, but to a dragon this was like a casual conversation. The Terror had said "looking for something?" and Glint had replied with "Yeah, you got a problem!".

"No need to get rough Mr. Runt of the clutch!" Terror bantered with a few caws and other noises. That stung at Glint's pride; he had been the smallest as a hatchling, but he was still a Night Fury! "Anyway, if you looking for the Runner, he last went that'a way." the Terror continued, blowing a tiny speck of flame in the direction.

"Thanks for nothing, small fry!" Glint growled/roared back as he took off in the new direction. He knew that the other dragons were just teasing him because of his size, but it still hurt. He was sure that none of them truly hated him . . . except the Timber Jack, but he left.

"No problem runt!" Terror squawked back. Glint could taste the scent, it was a notch fresher than the others riddled around, "he" was close and "he" was about to lose at this game. He loped through the woods, bounding quickly, only stopping to check the scent. It was fresh, but it doubled back and swirled around way too many times for Glint. The source was sooo close! He leapt into a clearing, and caught sight of his quarry. His friend had frozen, face blank in surprise, a foot still off the ground in mid-stride. Glint narrowed his eyes and lowered his body nearer to the earth, preparing to pounce.

He shot at the boy, aiming to catch him then an there! It was like magic to Glint, one second the boy was there and the next he was gone! Glint darted around the clearing, scanning to find his "prey". There he was, running like a madman past the trees, crashing through the undergrowth like it was air! Instincts kicking in, Glint leapt after him.

"Oh, nononononoooo! You've found me but you still have to catch me!" He screamed through the jungle, his feet dashing through the dirt. "WHOOOOOAAAAAAAA!" He yelled as Glint began to close the distance between them before pulling more speed out of his body. His burst of energy was short lived, for Glint propelled himself forward in one last blast and caught his friend with his scaly front-legs. They both hit the ground and skidded to a halt, flecks of dirt flying. Glint got up, slightly dazed, and checked himself for injuries. Things were slightly banged up but not broken. His friend tried to push him off, shoving lightly at Glints chest and face.

"Okay, okay, you win! Peace! Get off already!" He submitted verbally while still trying to free himself from Glint's grasp. Glint decided that he was comfortable where he was and that he'd just take a quick nap. He repositioned himself only slightly, not allowing his hard caught quarry to escape. The boy still struggled, but only for a few minutes, and then he mellowed out, trying to make himself comfortable as well. He rolled onto his side and Glint draped a wing over him.

(View reset)

I couldn't truly sleep the whole time that I was stuck there, I could only doze. Something felt wrong in my leg, like the muscles were too tight. When Glint finally woke back up and lifted his wing, I could see that the sun was already climbing down its ladder on the horizon. He finally got off of me, and I started to get up. A burning ache ripped through my right ankle, I must have sprained it during the fall, that must have been what was wrong! I hissed in pain as I propped up on my left leg and tried putting pressure on my right, I wasn't going to be walking anywhere on my own anytime soon. Glint took notice of my pain and walked over to my right side, giving me something to lean on.

He stuck around as my crutch the whole way back to our cliff, it amazed me how caring he acted. Leaning on him for support, I looked out over the sea once more. In the sunset, I saw a silhouette; not a dragon, but a ship. We parachuted down into Glint's cave, and I looked out again; it was still there. They can't be coming to get me yet! There's still three more days!

If only the ship's reason for being here was that harmless . . .

Dun dun dun . . . and the plot thickens . . .

First of all, the ship at the end is not a viking ship. That alone illuminates the foreshadowing. I would once again like to thank those who have given me ideas, more would still be appreciated, but now I have a plot for at least one of the last three days. Please, my dear readers, review with thoughts.

Me: Do you know what is to come?

Karma: No?

Me: Me neither.

Karma: Will someone please press the button!