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Broken

Chapter 11: Mouths in dust

Toothless gazed with fierce intensity at the small creature before him. His eyes seemed to glow and his whole body was locked in tense rigidity. The object of his scrutiny held as still as possible, watching the dragon with wide eyes. Only their breathing could be heard; one calm and measured, the other quick and shallow. Slowly and with great deliberation he lifted his lips and snarled.

"Hrrarghhh!"

The Night Fury's eyes narrowed in displeasure. He lowered his wide head slightly and snarled again.

"Hrrararraghhh!"

His retractile teeth showed themselves, glistening and full of potential. He snarled once more, loudly.

"HRRARARAGARAGHHH!"

In an instant his whole posture changed to one of defeat. He shook his head and slumped to the ground.

"Oh come on!" Hiccup complained. "Wasn't I even close?"

Toothless shifted his eyes to gaze at his rider. His only answer was a quiet grunt that had been designated 'No' between them.

Frustrated, the one legged Viking leaned forward and put his head in his hands. "It's not easy, you know. My throat isn't built like yours."

A brisk, salt-laden breeze stirred the stunted trees and the tough, thin bladed grass that grew in the few places it could find to sink roots. They had returned to the raised islet where they'd had their first 'conversation' and Hiccup had learned of Toothless' true status as a person. The young man now considered it to be as special to him as the cove where they'd formed their friendship. It didn't hurt that it was out of the way, out of sight of the village and only accessible by dragon. It was highly unlikely they would be interrupted during their 'lessons.'

Interruptions had turned out to be the least of their difficulties. Hiccup's goal of learning to interpret and speak Toothless' language had proved far more difficult to reach than he'd ever imagined. Worse, it seemed the failure was all on Hiccup's side of the equation.

At the start it had gone well enough. Hiccup's first notion was to get a few key words worked out between them. They'd started with 'yes', 'no', 'danger', 'hungry', 'fly', and 'home.' The Night Fury had patiently repeated those words until he was fairly certain he could tell them apart. It was surprisingly hard, though. For one thing, the light gurgling rumble the dragon gave for 'yes' and 'fly' were annoyingly similar. He had to concentrate very hard to hear the difference, and often had to rely on context to help him out. If he asked his friend a yes or no question, he could be fairly certain an answer that sounded like 'fly' was actually 'yes.'

The first serious problem showed up when he tried to learn more words. His ears had trouble distinguishing the subtle growls and warbles and trills of more difficult words. He'd even been somewhat shocked to hear the words 'up' and 'down' were so similar he couldn't tell them apart at all. It didn't help that both words had sounded suspiciously like a dragon-sized belch.

The next stumbling block came when he asked Toothless to construct simple sentences out of the few words he could understand with reasonable accuracy. He was horrified to learn that the way dragon words were put together to form sentences changed the sounds of the individual words themselves. It had taken him a whole day to figure that out. If Norse words had combined to make sentences the way draconic ones did, the words, 'I', 'see' and 'home' would blur together into something like 'Yisssoom.'

At first, Hiccup wondered if they could get by forming a new grammar for the two of them. It might have worked much the same way children learning to talk would slur, distort or drop words to form crude sentences that adults could understand. He didn't think he'd mind if Toothless had to use dragon 'baby-talk' to communicate with him, so long as it worked.

Finally, the most serious blow to Hiccup's plans. He tried to reproduce the words that Toothless had been teaching him. He'd felt a fool from the start, trying to make his high, nasal voice push out heavy, rumbling draconic words. But it felt far worse when the dragon indicated he wasn't even close to managing it. He'd been trying to say 'yes', 'no', and 'home' most of the morning. To the best of his knowledge, the only thing he'd accomplished was to give himself a headache, a sore throat and a miserable sense of failure.

Now he sat, despondent, staring out at the brilliant blue waters and wishing he were a dragon. He saw no way around it. Hiccup would never be able to properly speak the language of the dragons. He couldn't even speak it improperly. Disappointment had been a constant companion during his life thus far, but it had never had quite so sharp an edge as it did today. He'd always thought himself clever enough to get around any problems his often inadequate body posed. Even the loss of a limb was manageable, especially with Gobber as an experienced guide. But there was nothing he could do to make his voice reproduce the sounds that made up the language Toothless used. His ears, his throat and his brain had all been proven completely incapable.

Toothless sat next to him, his tail comfortably wrapped around his hips and the edge of one wing lying gently against his back. The Night Fury also stared out at the endless waves. Hiccup looked up at his best friend, at the heavily muscled neck and wide jaws. Curiosity moved him.

"Toothless, would you do something for me?" Since learning that his reptilian companion was, in fact, a person, Hiccup had made certain to treat him with the same dignity and respect as he would anyone else in the village. The dragon gave him a questioning look and then nodded. "Would you let me put my hand on your throat as you speak?" Toothless tipped his head slightly to say, 'Go ahead.'

With the dragon's head stretched out a bit and Hiccup's hands in place, one on the side of his neck and one on his throat just behind his jaws, the short experiment began. His friend spoke for about a minute. Hiccup moved his hands over and around his neck and throat as he did. By the time Toothless fell silent, he had realized two important things. First, that there was a tremendous amount of power shaping the sounds that came from his friend's throat. He could directly feel the muscles under his hands moving and vibrating so forcefully that he wondered if any muscle in his own body was strong enough to replicate the sounds the Fury made.

Secondly, he could also feel a faint but definite vibration in his own chest when Toothless spoke. Somehow, some part of the black dragon's speech could only be felt, not heard. It occurred to him that those vibrations might also be part of how dragons spoke, that without them the words would be incorrect, mere gibberish.

It wasn't the end of the world, he knew. As much as he wanted to be able to speak to any dragon at will, there were still other means available to him. He was sure Toothless would be willing to act as translator. If he put enough effort into the learning, he still believed he could come to understand the words they spoke to him. But to be denied the ability to respond, to hold a one-on-one conversation with any dragon he met, took a powerful tool out of his hands. Until he did learn to hear their words properly, he couldn't even hold a real conversation with his best friend. He wasn't sure which hurt more.

Thoroughly dispirited, Hiccup leaned sideways until his head was pressed against Toothless' neck. He laid one hand against the Fury's shoulder and sighed. "I really wanted this to work. It would have made things so much easier." Toothless curled his head around until his chin was touching Hiccup's shoulder and crooned quietly.

As they sat commiserating, Hiccup felt something pushing harshly into his armpit. He ignored it, wanting no distractions. When the pressure became uncomfortably sharp, he realized what it was. It was his journal, the most recent one he'd made for himself. He used it strictly for keeping notes on his observations of dragons. Keeping a journal tucked into the pocket he'd sewn to the inside of his brown fur vest was convenient for him. Sometimes it also proved annoying. Such as when it poked him if he turned his upper body a certain way.

Distracted by the physical discomfort caused by the small book, his mind was suddenly taken back to the day he'd found Jaspin looking at one of his older journals. The boy had held it up, displaying the portraits Hiccup had drawn of his best friend. That memory triggered another one, of him sitting in 'their' cove, drawing a sketch of Toothless' head in the dirt.

The memory of that day was a favorite of his; the true start of their friendship. It also brought his current failure back into focus. That special day, last autumn, had sparked so many questions in his mind. He'd anticipated asking Toothless those questions and getting answers that would shed much light on the nature of his friend and all dragons. Now he knew it might take him months or even years to get those answers, if he could get them at all. He didn't want to have those questions sitting between them, taunting him and his inability to converse with the Fury.

Why, Hiccup wondered. When Toothless saw him draw a picture of his head in the sand, why had he taken a sapling in his mouth and made those huge, looping lines around him? And why had he been upset when he accidentally stepped on one of those lines? Had it been mimicry? Curiosity? Or had it been an attempt at communica-

His eyes snapped open and the hairs on his arms rose in goose bumps. "Mouths in dust," he whispered, awestruck by how simple the solution was.

When Hiccup was first being taught to write, his father had told him that runes were spoken words set in permanent form. To demonstrate, he had placed a single, huge finger on the tabletop between them and drawn a few lines in the dust. Dust was a common element in the Haddock household, then as now. Hiccup, too young to understand at that point and wanting only to go outside to explore, had retorted, "Mouths in dust. Sounds like so much fun."

"Toothless, I have it!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Oh, why didn't I see it before?" He sat up, grinning up at the dragon's puzzled expression. "We can write!"

The Night Fury obviously didn't understand. He gave a questioning grunt. "Runes," Hiccup explained. Toothless' still didn't seem to understand. "You know, writing." Still there was no reaction. "Don't you guys have writing?" Hiccup suddenly pictured dragons holding charcoal sticks, scribbling on cave walls and realized what a stupid question it was. "No, of course you wouldn't. Never mind. Look." He took out his journal, happy to remove it from where it had been poking him. He opened it to a page of notes and drawings and held it up. "You see the pictures?"

"Yes."

For a moment Hiccup froze, suddenly struck by the realization that, in their own limited way, they could already speak to one another. But there could be no communicating complex ideas in both directions. It astounded him how exhilarating, comforting and disappointing it could feel, all at the same time. He caught his breath and pushed on.

"Each of these little marks represents a sound." He noticed Toothless squinting at the page. "Yeah, this might be a little small for your eyes, but we can deal with that in a minute." He pointed to a specific string of characters. "This word is 'dragon.' It's made of six little marks. Those six marks in that particular order make the word 'dragon.'" He thought a moment. "Ok, how do you speak the word for 'dragon' in your language?"

Toothless warbled a brief note.

"All right. When I speak Norse, the word I use to say the same thing is 'dragon.' That word is made up of several separate sounds." He pointed to the word on the page again. "Each of those marks stands for a specific sound. When those sounds are made in the order that they are showing here, they make the word 'dragon.'"

He had to go a step farther before Toothless seemed to understand. He found a small sandy patch were the grass didn't seem to care to grow and started making marks with a forefinger. He hoped Toothless would make a better student than he had initially. Once the dragon seemed to grasp the idea, Hiccup smoothed away the characters he'd drawn and pointed to the blank area. "Now you try it."

Toothless backed away, looking around for something. He didn't seem pleased at the limited resources offered at the top of a sparsely covered islet. He reared up against one of the gnarly trees and took one of its branches in his mouth. Hiccup immediately foresaw a problem with that idea.

"Toothless, wait! There's a better way." He pointed down at the sandy patch. "Let me show you."

The Fury returned to the spot and watched carefully. Hiccup held up his hand and extended one finger. He used it to trace the runes for 'dragon' in the dust. "See if you can do that."

Yet another problem stood in their way, but it took the young man several minutes to realize it. Toothless reached forward with his forepaw and tried to mimic the motions he had seen. His results were rather sloppy, as he was dragging the wide pad of his paw through the loose material rather than a single claw. Hiccup tried to correct him by holding up his hand and showing how he was folding all his fingers but one. With that one, he demonstrated the rune again.

When Toothless scratched several parallel lines with his claws, botching yet another effort, Hiccup said, "Wait a minute. Toothless, may I look at your claws?"

Neither of them had anticipated a lesson in the anatomy of a Night Fury that day, but that's what they found themselves engaged in. The dragon held up one forearm, the heavy limb and powerful claws held still so his diminutive friend could examine them. Hiccup first looked the structure over. He noticed that of the four claws on the forepaw, the innermost one was set slightly apart, just as his own thumb was. If that was the equivalent of a thumb, then that was how the dragon could grasp things.

Next he looked at the other three claws. That's when he realized something extraordinary. They weren't really claws, in the sense that a bird or a cat has claws. These hard, sharp digits had a bendable joint in the middle. When he looked very closely he saw a tiny network of scales around where the joint bent. It let Toothless use his claws the way any animal would, to dig or fight but also let him grasp things with much more confidence and security.

So if he could grasp things, why wasn't he able to extend a single claw to draw in the dirt? When he tried forcing the claws to fold down, he found that they were joined internally. Folding any one claw down forced all the claws to fold. Toothless could no more extend a single claw than Hiccup could touch his elbows to his ears.

"Well, great," Hiccup muttered. "Fine." He looked around the top of the islet, searching as Toothless had moments ago. "That's fine." He got up and hobbled over to the tree his dragon had been about to de-limb and broke off a small dead branch. He held it up for Toothless to see. "Try using this. Hold it so." He grasped it like the handle of a butter churn and demonstrated scratching a rune in the sand.

Another surprising lesson in Night Fury bodily mechanics resulted. Toothless could not fold his bendable claw joints completely over into the pad of his paw. The stick was so thin that no matter how much he tried, he could not firmly grasp it. "You're kidding me!" He looked at how closely the claws came to each other and to the pad. He looked up at Toothless with a disturbed expression. He held up his own arm. "Can you grip this?" he asked.

Toothless carefully wrapped his claws around his arm and tried to hold on. The tightest his claws would fold still allowed Hiccup's thin forearm to move within his grip.

"Toothless," he whispered. "How did you catch Astrid?" He gazed at those beautiful green eyes and wondered at how much closer her death had been than he'd known. "How could you have held her?"

The Night Fury simply reached out and gently wrapped his claws around Hiccup's good leg. The thicker mass of his leg muscles could feel a firm, solid grip before he let go. "Oh wow. I had no idea."

Hiccup shook off the disturbed feeling he'd gotten and concentrated on their writing lessons. "Ok, so, we'll get you a bigger stick..." It took some searching before a limb of sufficient size was found. Toothless bit off the end to square it up, held it the way his rider had shown him and ran smack into their next problem.

The dragon could hold the stick easily enough. It was of sufficient size and the right length. When Hiccup repeated the movements he used to write the runes for 'dragon' in the dirt, the dragon did his best to copy those movements. His arm, wrist and forepaw, however, were jointed the way any quadruped's would be. Moving his writing stick in line with his body wasn't too bad. That was essentially a digging motion that any four-legged creature could manage. But any side to side motion tended to throw him off. Hiccup ignored the runes and asked Toothless to make simple squares and circles. As he did, he watched his forearm and wrist, realizing the problem. Toothless simply wasn't built to hold something long and thin in an upright position.

"Stop," he muttered. "This is... no." He stood up, wobbled slightly and stepped back a bit. "There has to be... I mean..." He shook his head and pressed thin fingers against his temples. Staring at his friend's foreleg, he frowned as he turned the problem over in his mind. "You need... something... umm."

Suddenly his eyes widened. "Wait. Wait, I think..." He stepped back towards the Night Fury. He picked up the stick Toothless had been trying to write with and laid one hand on his friend's foreleg. Easing himself into a sitting position, he slid his hand down the leg to the forepaw. He ran his fingers over the paw and its claws, learning how they spread naturally while Toothless was in a standing position. "Lift it just off the ground, please."

The dragon did as he was asked. He didn't react when Hiccup shoved the stick under his paw at an angle that wedged it between his 'thumb' and the other claws. "Can you grip that?" The request was granted with ease. He noticed that while the stick was basically round, the center of Toothless' grip was more triangular as it was formed by his 'thumb claw', the hard, leathery pad of his paw and the other three claws.

"Yeah," he mumbled to himself. "If I shape that just right, you could hold it better." He leaned back, took out his knife and began whittling on the stick, trimming its sides down to the three sided shape he wanted. It took little time to get the result he wanted. He laid it down on the ground. "Can you pick that up?"

The dragon's claws easily scooped up the stick and held it in his paw. He examined the fit. "Does that feel secure? Can you scratch in the dirt with it?" Toothless looked at the stick he held for a moment, then tried to hold it point down to scribe lines in the dust. "No, no. I'm sorry, I meant for you to use the end with your hand, er, foot? Paw?" Hiccup shook his head, setting aside that particular distraction. "Hold it as if you were standing on it. And pretend there's a hook on the end that points down. I know there isn't, but there will be soon."

Understanding lit the Fury's eyes and he held his paw in the same natural position he would if he were standing on it. With the three sided stick firmly in his grip, he trailed the tip across the palette of loose soil, leaving a rather thick yet clear line behind. "Yes!" Elated something of the days' work was turning out the way he'd hoped, he hugged the dragon's neck. He marveled at the satisfied purr he could feel coming from within. "Come on, let's go to my forge. I'll make one out of some good metal stock for you."

Energized by his small companion's infectious delight, Toothless happily took them back out over the waters and headed for Berk.

Dawn came late the next day as heavy clouds had rolled in, threatening rain and thunder. Hiccup woke to an empty house. Without his father or his dragon to prod him he took longer than usual to get dressed and find something to eat. He wound up breakfasting on cold biscuits and a cup of water while sitting on the front steps of his house.

He never really worried about Toothless when he disappeared. Even a dragon incapable of flying by himself was unlikely to run into trouble anywhere on the island. But this morning Hiccup found himself thinking about how their previous day had ended.

With the Night Fury providing a nice controlled flame for heat, he'd taken some leftover round stock Gobber had given him from the training arena's caging and began making a 'pencil' for Toothless. Using the stick he'd carved for a template, he'd cut it off at the right length and formed the sides to fit the dragon's hand...paw?

Once again Hiccup disrupted his own line of thought. It seemed so small a thing. What to call the end of his dragon's foreleg? It obviously wasn't a hand. Calling it a forefoot seemed ridiculous when he considered what the Fury could do with it. And paw had animalistic overtones that bothered him. The dragon was a four-footed being. When he walked or ran, he used those... paws for locomotion like an animal would. But he'd also used Hiccup's newest invention in a way any human would.

Well, any human confined to a hands and knees position, anyway.

Toothless had certainly taken to it with enthusiasm. Even after the sun had gone down, the dragon had been practicing his runes in the loose dirt of a clearing well behind their house. Hiccup had insisted that they keep this particular development out of sight of any other Vikings for the time being. The Fury hadn't seemed concerned about it but had given in to his rider's wishes. He'd left him, still using the bent and rounded tip of his metal 'pencil' to scratch rune after rune in the dust.

Brushing the crumbs from his tunic, he made his way to Gobber's forge. Ingifast needed more nails. It had turned out that Stoick's decision to send 'Rorik' on Berk's first trade mission in generations hadn't taken into account that it was not in the best of shape. The shipwright had insisted that it be refitted and strengthened for the extended voyage. The mission was postponed until it could be reworked, and the reworking had to wait for Gobber to make new nails and fittings.

The master smith greeted him cheerfully and set him immediately to work. Ingifast wouldn't need nearly as many nails as they had made last time, so Gobber would take care of that. He set his apprentice to creating the new fittings the ship would need. As he got to work, Hiccup immediately noticed Gobber had started construction of a new forge based on his design. It was set near the largest door so his Boneknapper George could easily have access to it. He smiled at that as he began his work.

It wasn't long before he started having minor problems concentrating on what he was doing. Gobber was one of the few adults in the village who had taken to keeping a dragon and losing all his animosity toward them in general. Hiccup kept wondering what the man would say if he learned what Toothless had shown him. Would he accept dragons as people? Would he believe they could talk to one another, or that with enough time a Viking might learn to understand their speech? As tolerant as the man was, Hiccup was nowhere near certain the smith would be able to see dragons the way he now did.

Thinking of dragons, Hiccup realized that George was not around. Looking up, he did notice several Terrors perched on the rafters of the smithy. Most of them looked to be asleep. It dawned on him that he had become so used to having at least one dragon around him most of the day that when he was only around other villagers he felt a strange kind of loneliness. And, oddly, Terrible Terrors didn't seem to count since Toothless had told him that those smallest of dragons couldn't speak.

"Something wrong, lad?"

"Wha?" Hiccup looked at his teacher, surprised. "What's... umm..."

Gobber pointed to the piece he'd been working on. "You seem a bit distracted. That cleat has been cold black for almost a minute now with nary a hammer's kiss to work it. What's on your mind?"

Very old habits took hold and set Hiccup to dissembling. "Oh, nothing really. I was just... wondering..." For one startling moment he imagined spilling it all to his mentor, relating everything he'd been told so far by Toothless and letting the axe fall where it may. But the old fears were just as strong as the old habits and he banished such thoughts immediately. He looked up at the rafters and saw his way out. "Could Terrible Terrors be trained like other dragons?" He pointed to Gobber's new forge. "I mean they're too small to do much, but maybe they could, I don't know... carry messages. Or something."

"Messages?" Gobber set the rods he was working back into the fire. "What kind of messages?"

"Uh, well, you know, any kind. Like, if someone got hurt on the other side of the island, they could send a Terror back to get help."

Gobber just blinked at him. For several moments, he simply stared. Then he slowly nodded. "Ya know, that's actually a good idea." He seemed to turn the idea over in his mind and like it more each second. "Hiccup, my boy, that's an excellent idea!" A broad grin came over his face, lifting the ends of his long mustache. "If they're trainable, we could get them to carry messages anywhere!" He gazed up the rafters. "Ah, I knew they had to be good for something other than begging for scraps and bothering the cats."

For an idea he had pulled out of nowhere to cover what he'd been really thinking, Hiccup was amazed to realize Gobber was right. Terrors were much like non-mousing cats, harmless yet useless. If they could, in fact, be trained they might be of considerable benefit. And maybe acceptance of them as messengers would help in the village accepting dragons in general.

"It would be so easy," Gobber went on, the idea thoroughly taking hold. "A body could write out a few words on a scrap of parchment and have a Terror take it to someone else." His eyes widened. "Or, or something simpler. Why carry parchment and charcoal when you could give 'em a painted rock? Red or injury, blue for being lost, maybe green for a beached whale that needs butchering right away."

Hiccup nodded, also wondering if sending messages with Terrors might somehow ease across the idea that other dragons could communicate. If he gave it enough thought, he might be able to turn this unexpected idea to the dragon's benefit.

As interested as Gobber was with the idea, he still insisted that they get back to work. Ingifast needed what they were working on and getting involved in another project would only delay them and upset the shipwright.

Both men went at their chores with new gusto, mostly to finish as soon as possible so they could get on to other, more interesting things. Hiccup left shortly after noon, saying he wanted to think about how they would go about training the little dragons. As he walked up the path toward his house, he left Gobber trying to coax the sleeping Terrors down from his rafters with bits of salted fish.

Hiccup went straight to his house first, intent on finding Toothless. The Night Fury wasn't there, but his father was. Stoick was working on cooking up a large pot of salmon stew, one of the few things he could cook well enough to be considered truly edible.

"If you're looking for lunch, this won't be ready until tonight."

"Uh, no dad. I'm actually looking for Toothless."

Stoick's expression became utterly impassive. "I haven't seen him." He turned back to filleting the large fish he'd laid out on the table.

"Ah. Ok, then." Hiccup backed out the door and took off limping for the clearing. It was only ten minutes' walk from his house, but before he got there he noticed something. He could smell a faint odor of smoke. Curious and just a little worried, he burst into the clearing where he'd left his dragon.

"What?" he whispered.

The clearing had been transformed. Instead of a lush spot of tall grass and wildflowers it was a flat, burned slate of ashes and dust. He stood at the edge, bewildered. What had happened? As he stepped out into the open, he got his answer.

Every square foot of exposed topsoil had been plowed. The furrows were all identical, though some were obviously done at the start of the learning process. He found others that showed the result of intense practice and single-minded effort. There were footprints everywhere, too. Some of the furrows were flattened by careless paws as early trials were ignored in favor or newer, better ones.

Toothless had burned off every bit of growth in the clearing and etched the exposed surface dirt with the runes that spelled 'dragon.' Some looked like a giant child had drawn them, misshapen and hardly readable. Others showed clearer lines, more precise markings. 'Dragon' had been the only word Hiccup had found time to teach his dragon, and it seemed Toothless had dedicated himself to learning to write it. It was scratched in the dirt perhaps a hundred times, surrounding him with an immense flock of runic dragons.

Part of him wanted to panic. If anyone else saw this, what would they think? Would they make any connection between the words and the footprints? Would they think it a strange prank? Or would they simply be annoyed that a dragon had ruined a rather nice spot on the island with fire?

Hiccup ran back to his house, but Toothless still wasn't there. Where could he be? He went back by the smithy, but not even Gobber was there now. He supposed there was one other obvious place he should look, but as he headed in that direction he happened to spot Thunderguts. She was sleeping in a sunny spot some small distance from Fishlegs' workshop. He approached her warily but found her eyes to be open when he got near enough to see. A quick check proved no one else was nearby.

"Hello Thunderguts."

She blinked.

"I'm looking for my dragon, Toothless. Have you seen him?"

The Gronckle surprised him by grunting and lifting her head. She gazed off in a particular direction before letting her head thump back to the ground. It was as he'd expected. The direction she'd indicated was where their cove lay. He thanked her, going so far as to cautiously place one hand on her chin and give her a pleasant scratching. She seemed pleased with his attentions.

It took longer to get to the cove than it used to. The way was not easy for him anymore. He'd managed to find a slightly easier path, one that didn't put too much stress on his false leg but it still took longer to make his way to their special place. He wasn't really worried about the well being of his friend but there were things he definitely wanted to discuss with him.

The smell warned him. Even so, the sight was stunning. From the spot in the rocks where he usually made his entrance into the cove, he could see most of it easily. There hadn't been much grass here to start. Most of the loose dirt had simply been layered with moss and other ground cover. Now all of it was gone. Scorch marks and lines covered every inch that Toothless' pencil could penetrate. There was a major difference between the 'work' the dragon had done at the clearing and what he'd done at the cove, though. There were no runes to be seen here, not a single one. But there were pictures everywhere.

Pictures and paw prints lead from the entrance across the bottom of the cove. Like the first runes he'd done, his first pictures were shaky, hard to discern. As the Fury had continued his practice he'd gotten better. Much better, in fact. Hiccup could only assume the dragon's night vision had allowed him to work non-stop through the darkest hours.

Stunned, he slowly walked through an amazing gallery of dragon art. Some scrawls were quiet abstract, some very obvious. He saw representations of trees and fish and houses. One he stopped by could have been a cat, or perhaps a squirrel. And there were dragons everywhere. Many different breeds were now living there in the dust beneath his foot. There had to be at least two dozen dragons surrounding him.

This was more than mouths in dust. It looked like Toothless had created a whole world in the dust. It seemed the dragon was full of stories and wanted to tell them all at once.

He finally spotted the hunched black form, its head down and one arm slowly carving new lines. As he watched, Toothless made a correction by putting his 'drawing paw' down and reaching out with his other to pat the ground smooth in one small spot. Then he took his pencil and remade the lines to his satisfaction.

Hiccup shook his head in amazement. Careful not to tread on any of the drawings, despite ample evidence that Toothless had done so quite often, he made his way toward his friend. When he called to him the Fury raised his head, warbled a happy note and returned to finishing his current effort.

"What have you been up to, Toothless?" He put a hand on the dragon's shoulder and studied the latest work.

It was quite confusing at first. There were several drawings clustered together in one area where the his friend was working. His eyes roved over the scattered lines, looking for familiar patterns. He noticed a small drawing of Toothless, seemingly in flight. His wings were spread and his tail streamed straight out behind him. On his back was a small lump that Hiccup assumed was a puny Viking the Fury had befriended. He gazed around some more, noticing a far larger and unpleasantly familiar figure.

Six eyes, a cavernous mouth and a size that made all other dragons fearful, the Red Death was unmistakable. He realized Toothless had drawn that enormous monster in flight, chasing Toothless and him down from the sky. It seemed obvious that it was a moment that held as much importance to his friend as it did to Hiccup.

It was certainly the work of a beginner. Proportions were skewed in places, many lines that were meant to be straight weren't. Considering that Toothless had been drawing less than a day, Hiccup thought it was an extremely good effort. He had no doubts that the Fury's artistic endeavors would only improve as time went on.

He looked around at the many drawings around them. "This is incredible, buddy. You're really getting good at this. We should have you writing in no time."

Toothless shook his head and grumble-growled at him. He leaped a few paces away, scanning the ground. When he found a spot he liked, he used his empty paw to wipe out the previous drawings and began dragging his pencil's tip in the loose earth once more. He quickly sketched out three small symbols. The first looked mostly like a person, but there was a significant difference. This person had one leg that ended in a simple line from its knee down. He assumed it represented himself. The next icon was a slim shape, pointed at one end and flaring at the other. Fish, he decided. The last one was obviously Toothless, drawn in a sitting position.

He thought it was rather cute until he realized what that short string of symbols actually meant. It was a sentence, a message in pictographs. "Hiccup fish Toothless."

His dragon was asking to be fed.

(c)Wirewolf 2011

"How to train your dragon" and all attendant characters are copyright

Dreamworks Animation and used without permission