Freya trotted back to the cave, three trout secured in her woven drawstring bag that was slung over her shoulder. Fishing hadn't been bad, but she had still been sitting at the pool for longer than she would have liked. Now it was getting cold and she still had a fire to start.

Rounding a tree, Freya almost got knocked off her feet by a sudden frigid gale. Grumbling, she regained her balance and trudged on, cursing herself for not bringing her cloak. Hel's throne, it had been pleasant until now.

When the cave was in sight, Freya picked up her pace and made for the windbreak of the large entrance. She was about twenty feet away when it started to rain, making her break into a sprint and say nasty things about the weather.

Once inside, she gave the weather one last choice phrase, then tugged the rope nearby, making a sheet of oiled sheepskin with rocks tied to the bottom fall across the entrance to block out most of the wind. Despite that, it was still cold, therefore time to start a fire. Freya laid her fishing gear down and went back to her things to find her flint. Once located, she drew her knife and scraped it across the stone. When a pathetic spark jumped from it, she grumbled loudly, and began to grind on the stone with more vigor. After about five minutes of swearing and snarling, Freya halted when she felt warmth leaking into her hands. Looking up, she saw a small blaze had begun. Dropping her flint, she began to coax the fire higher and higher until it could be left unsupervised.

Freya returned to her fish and found sticks to spear the fish with and propped them up around the fire to cook. Settling herself against a wall where she could monitor them effectively, Freya dragged her bag over and fished through it. After she'd fished out the loaf of bread she'd nicked from her parents house, Freya cut a slice off and nibbled at it, thinking back on her day.

For spending the day doing what she hadn't done by herself for three years, she had done well. She'd managed to establish her supplies well, and she started a fire in less than an hour. She also hadn't drawn too much attention to herself, ensuring that she needn't worry about any of the predators on Berk paying her a visit.

As soon as the fish had been cooked to a preservable state, Freya again rummaged in her bag and brought out a long, clean cloth to wrap them in. After she did that, she placed the wrapped food next to the stone bowl. After a moment, Freya removed the heavy stone from the moss and sipped from the bowl of water underneath.

After she finished her meal, Freya banked the fire as best she could, then curled up under a blanket and rested her head on her bag, finally done for the night.

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Adrian tore into the forge and started going through all the weapons he could find, testing their blades and their weight in his hand. Once he secured a sturdy pair of axes and a light but durable sword, he spun towards the wall that Gobber had loaded with shields to turn right into the smith himself.

"Lad, what are yeh doin'?" Gobber asked, raising one bushy eyebrow. Adrian froze for a moment, then all the words came tumbling out at once, leaving them in no sensible order whatsoever. Finally, Gobber clapped a hand over Adrian's mouth and sighed.

"Lad, one thing at a time."

"There's no time!" Adrian insisted, shoving the smith's hand away, "Freya's in trouble!"

"What'd she do?" Gobber asked, "Stub her toe?"

"No! The attackers aren't gone! She's on the wrong side of the island to be safe!"

"Wait, what do yeh mean lad?"

"Gobber, we're wasting time!"

"Lad, slow down, or yeh won't be able to get help."

"The people who attacked us, they send a ship around back. The prisoners told me. Freya's on that side of the island!"

"She went camping this soon after the attack?" Gobber asked incredulously, "Little featherbrain!"

"Gobber!" Adrian yelled.

"Wha'?" Gobber noticed Adrian almost turning red with frustration, "Righ'. Lad, you get a head start, I'll round up a group to go after yeh."

Adrian started for the door, only to come to a jerking halt as Gobber grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Lad, make sure to take a bow with you. You don't know how many there may be and it's best to start from a distance."

"Right." Adrian nodded slowly, then trotted out the door to find the aforementioned weapon.

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Several minutes later, Adrian was treading softly along the beaten track Freya had been following that morning, sticking to the shadows. How far in the enemy had made it, he didn't know, but he wasn't going to take any chances. It took half a day to get across the island, but he had to cut that time down. After every half mile, he paused, listening for sounds of company. At one point, he heard the whooshing sound of a dragon overhead. It circled him once as he looked to the sky. A Night Fury; Hiccup must have joined the search party. It would be nice to have backup.

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Freya jolted awake, her hand quickly but silently finding her sword. Something was out there, beyond the cave. Quickly, she tossed her bowl of water onto the fire, wincing at the loud hiss as it was extinguished. Whatever was outside paused, making her heart race. After a few minutes, it moved on. But Freya wasn't going to take any chances. She tucked her knife in its sheath and slung her sword over her shoulder. After carefully coiling her whip into belt, Freya let her eyes grow used to the dark, then silently venturing beyond the cave's entrance.

Whatever had passed by had been very big. Its tracks had imprinted deeply into the moist ground and defied the rain's attempts to wash them away. That was more than enough to have Freya on edge. She didn't know of anything on Berk that could have tracks of this size.

Unless they had a visitor.

She slowly made her way down from her cave, her breath bated and every muscle in her body willing her to run. To abandon this place and not look back. But if she was being hunted, that would only get her killed. Freya forced herself to take a deep breath, and follow those tracks. Even if she couldn't figure out how to rid the island of this creature, she could at least warn the village before it caused actual damage.

Carefully avoiding branches that could snap beneath her feet, of leaves that would rustle as she passed, Freya continued her journey through the rain. The sound of the water falling all around her hindered her ability to see, or hear, much of what was around her.

It must have been an hour before the rain began to soften, but not cease. She didn't care; at least she could see better. Until she realized that her situation had worsened. More tracks had joined her mystery creature, and in greater numbers. They all seemed to be the same creatures, but they now made her wish she hadn't left the cave. She couldn't handle numbers like this.

About to abandon her hunt, Freya froze. In the distance there was a flickering of light, possibly a fire.

"Who would be out this far?" Freya whispered to herself. Not many ventured as far as she did on the island, and that fact put her on guard. She would have to determine who it was before she revealed herself.

With feather-light footsteps, she made her way towards the light, concealing herself behind trees or large rocks whenever she could. Soon, she heard voices. And not in a language she understood. Her temper flared. Didn't they learn their lesson the other morning? Well, they were about to learn it again. Permanently.

Instead of a cautious scout, Freya became a hunter, slowly advancing on her prey. No one would threaten her home again. She would make sure of that.

Concealing herself behind a large rock, Freya slowly drew her sword, doing her best to mask the obvious rasp of metal leaving its sheath. The voices hesitated, as did she. Once they continued again, full of humor and a certain casual tone, she got onto her stomach and inched forward, always keeping something between her and the fire that could reveal her. Once she was a stone's throw from them, Freya inched onto a large rock overseeing her new friends. Once she was as close as she dared be, she began to count.

The finally tally was not a good one, she would have to go back to the village. A band of fifty was bad news if it caught them off guard, and she could never take care of that herself. Slowly moving back, she let herself slide off the rock, only to come to a halt as she hit a tree that had grown behind the rock. A tree that hadn't been there when she had first climbed it. She had just enough time to let out a yell as her head was smashed into the rock before her.

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Adrian paused, hearing something almost unforgotten to the wind. A sound of defiance, muffled by the distance it had taken to travel. A sound of defiance he knew too well. Freya had been found.

He picked up his pace to a hurried jog, trying not to make any obvious sounds as he loaded an arrow into his bow and made his way towards his doomed friend.

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Only a few minutes must have passed, but it had been long enough to get her into trouble. Freya woke to find her wrists and ankles bound, and her weapons confiscated. And an added bonus of having five men looking down on her with the obvious expression of trying to figure out what to do. When they noticed she was conscious, one of them crouched down and spoke to her. As was almost obvious, she couldn't understand. Her expression of bewilderment and barely concealed fear seemed to have just about sealed her fate. The man who seemed to have the most power made a disgusted noise and waved his hand dismissively and left. Obviously she was no longer of any use to him. The other four men looked at each other and shrugged. One of them pulled out a business-like dagger and held it under her chin. His message was clear, even if his words weren't. She was to cooperate, or face death. Freya's answer came in a kick that knocked the dagger from his hand and caught him under the chin. While he tried to recover, Freya managed to cut the rope binding her ankles before she was reclaimed. Two of the men present each grabbed a shoulder and shoved her down, while the third confiscated her freshly claimed weapon. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Her victim was not amused. He grabbed the blade and held it against her neck, a small stream of blood starting to emerge from the cut he'd just made. Then he started to threaten her. Unfortunately for him, they all brushed off her because Freya had no clue what he was saying. She decided to let her response be a glare that oozed malice and violence. That changed his tune pretty fast. He decided her time was up.

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Sorry guys, I have been absolutely awful on keeping up with posting. Since the last chapter, I had a couple more horrible things happen and school started, where I might have bit off more than I can chew. I apologize for the pathetic length and I will try hard to update again soon.

As always, read, enjoy, review.

-Birdi