Chapter 13
So you're saying Heather has an eye for it
Heart don't fail me now
Courage don't desert me
Don't turn back now that we're here
"I am not wearing this." Whisper shook her head, determined not to give in to Ruffnut's reasoning, holding onto the decision she had made on the previous evening instead.
"What a stubborn little troll you are," her companion snorted, rolling her eyes. "You're acting as if Heather had wanted to offend you with that gift."
Whisper made no answer, too focused on her own thoughts, as she continued her agitated walk around the room, which had already lasted for a good few minutes. How was she supposed to explain to her friend that she felt uncomfortable accepting such an unexpected, unjustified present? Even if she could have delivered the best of excuses, she still couldn't be sure that Ruff would agree to accept it.
She sighed heavily, and looked around her. Naturally, her eye was caught by the package Snotlout had given her.
If she'd had it her way, she probably wouldn't have even untied the ropes that it had been entwined with – so strong was her resolution to return the parcel at the earliest opportunity. However, considering the Twins' relentless insistence ("At least make sure it didn't get wet!"), she yielded, and having dealt with the tight knots, she carefully put the package's content out of it, and lay it on the table.
How astonished she was when she realised that said content was nothing less but a set of neatly folded clothes!
However surprised she was by her discovery, Whisper did not intend to do anything more than check if the delivery had been brought to her dry; therefore, having brushed her hand against the clothing – and thus having gained the confidence that no harm had been done – she moved away from the table, and quite firmly suggested that all three of them go to bed as quickly as possible. She didn't even think of unfolding the clothes and taking a better look at them.
She really wasn't going to wear them.
"You know, it's actually pretty rude of you." Ruff's sharp voice broke the silence that had fallen on the room. "Heather probably thought you would unpack the parcel at once, curious what you'd find inside. I bet she'll send a T-mail today, asking how you liked the present. What will she think of you when she finds out that you haven't even bothered to check what you've got?"
"It's not like that," the brunette opposed, stopping in her tracks for a moment. "I'm very grateful that she has thought of me, I just still can't understand, why? We hardly even know each other."
"You've already said that."
"Don't you think it matters?"
"As always, you're way overthinking this. If you want people to be nice to you, you have to allow them to do so. Otherwise they'll just feel offended – and there go those good relationships of yours."
"But don't you think it's a little too much?"
"As long as Heather doesn't, you shouldn't either. Come on, go try these clothes on. I want to know what it really is myself."
Whisper sighed again, still battling her own doubts. Was she really going to give up so easily? Then again – hadn't Ruff been right when she'd said that lack of interest was just a proof of her ingratitude?
Besides, there was one more idea that came to her mind. Ever since she had appeared at the shores of Berk, she'd been doing her best as to support her friends in their everyday struggle, and felt vexed every time when she was deprived of her right to do it.
Maybe that was what Ruffnut had meant when she'd said that she should allow people to be kind. Maybe if she wanted others to accept her help, she had to learn to accept it herself.
"Alright, you win," she stated eventually. "But if you want to see anything, you need to come here yourself."
The warrior jerked up from her seat, and marched briskly to her companion's side, curiously glaring at the little stack that was standing on the table.
"Any guesses what it may be?" she asked enthusiastically, not even trying to hide how intrigued the situation made her. "The material looks different than what we're used to wear here. She wouldn't send you anything that would stand out too much, though, right?"
"Ruff, I know exactly as much as you do," her friend answered with a smile.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But, look, this tunic is really weird. The material is one thing, but why would you need such loose sleeves? All of this looks rather badly sized, to be frank."
"Probably because it's a shirt," Whisper explained patiently, reaching for the controversial piece of her new garment, taking it away from Ruffnut, and eyeing it carefully. "And that's exactly what shirts look like."
"Are you kidding me? Snotlout would fit in this just fine, you're going to look like if you were wearing a sack."
"Exaggerating again," Whisper chuckled quietly, brushing the fair material with her fingers.
Contrary to Ruffnut, to whom such clothing was apparently so foreign, the other girl didn't need much time to understand that the shirt she was holding had been more than decently tailored, and whoever was responsible for the sewing, must have been gifted with as much talent as skill. The fabric was pleasant to touch, warm, yet not particularly thick, soft and surprisingly light. And… it seemed familiar.
Either way, it would undoubtedly be pleasing to wear.
She put the shirt aside, and reached out for another piece of clothing. It was a leather vest of equally high quality and precise workmanship, fastened with metal clasps from top to bottom. Contrary to the shirt it was tight, to the point where it made Whisper wonder if she could fit in it at all. Attached to the vest was a belt, a few spare buckles… While under it she found a pair of trousers, just a few shades lighter than it.
Both women frowned at the sight. None, literally none of the female inhabitants of Berk ever wore trousers just like that, always making sure that their thighs would be covered with something else than tight leggings, be it a skirt or a longer tunic. Then again, the trousers Whisper was holding in her hands didn't exactly resemble what was worn on the little Isle of Berk.
"Looks like you'll just have to try them on," Ruffnut summed up, as if responding to the doubts of them both. "Is that all?"
"I don't think so," the other girl muttered, her gaze fixed on a smaller package, so far hidden under the stack of clothes. It was quite heavy by comparison, which could only increase Whisper's curiosity. With no further dilly-dallying, she untied the strap that had been coiled around it, and uncovered the items lying beneath the leather.
Before her eyes appeared a pair of high, dark boots, perfectly matching the vest she had already examined.
Ruff took one of them and eyed it carefully from every side.
"Apparently, Heather wants you to look different from anyone within thirty miles or more," she threw in flatly. "I've never seen boots like these."
"You still think I should accept them?" Whisper asked teasingly, hardly managing to suppress a laugh. Incredible, how little it took for her friend's enthusiasm to turn into confused scepticism, all in a matter of minutes.
The warrior barely shrugged.
"Different doesn't mean bad, especially since Heather has an eye for it. Besides, as soon as Fishlegs mentioned that you'd fit in here nicely, you denied it."
"Stop it. You know I didn't mean it that way."
"Odin almighty! Stop whining and put those on. We'll see how it looks on you, and then we will decide what to do next. If it suits you, you'll cut this nonsense, accept the present and simply thank Heather for her consideration. If it doesn't, then we'll think of some proper excuse."
She nodded towards the stairs.
"You go up there, and I'll make sure that nobody bursts into the house uninvited. Just hurry, I'm honestly curious if this set can look good on anyone."
Refraining from further discussion, Whisper gathered the clothes and, careful not to drop any of them, she set off briskly in the indicated direction. Meanwhile, Ruffnut turned her back to her, fixing her sight on the wooden door frame, humming a song which her companion obviously couldn't have recognised.
Whisper didn't need much time to get rid of her current clothing, changing it for the one given her by Heather. And she had to admit – the difference could be felt at once.
A course, uneven tunic had been replaced with a soft, perfectly tailored shirt, clean, fresh, still smelling so new. In place of her leggings, too large and thus puckered uglily around her thighs appeared light, well-fitted trousers – and since they had never, apparently, been supposed to be that tight, they looked even better on her slim legs.
She glanced at the vest and boots, two elements that – on contrary to what she'd already been wearing – had to be fitted extremely well. Had Heather truly known what she'd been doing, choosing this sort of outfit for her?
However intriguing the situation was, there was no point in deciding about it in theory only. No longer hesitating, Whisper threw the leather vest on, buckled it up neatly, and belted up. Then she slipped her feet into the boots, and having ensured that the legs of her trousers had been set properly, she straightened up and froze for a second, ready to examine the final results.
Each and every part fitted her like a glove.
'So you're saying Heather has an eye for it,' she thought, stretching out her arms and shifting a little to test how comfortable her new outfit was. 'Well, she certainly does.'
Buoyantly, she ran down the stairs, ready to present herself to Ruffnut. It looked like her friends hadn't moved an inch this entire time, with her face still turned right at the door; to catch her attention, Whisper cleared her throat.
Now it was her who stood motionlessly, awaiting the warrior's judgement.
The first thing she heard was a gasp of a held breath, which, however, was soon followed by a most expressive flow of words.
"Woah, sister," Ruffnut began with an unconcealed delight. "Now that's what I call good looks. I mean, it really is different from anything we used to wear around here, but Thor strike me if I let you give it back. Good Loki! Do you even realise how much it suits you? You know what, maybe it's better if Heather doesn't see you like this, or she might regret she's ever sent it."
"And why would she -"
"Are you kidding me? You look better than anyone in Berk's entire history, including Astrid, Heather and a few other beauties. I've never been in the lead myself, so I really couldn't care less, but Heather would have every right to feel jealous. Heck, and to think that we made you wear those old rags!"
"The clothes you gave me were fine, Ruff," the brunette protested, feeling another pang of guilt. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to think that her gift was not appreciated enough. "They were warm, and they fitted, and that's all that matters."
"Yeah, yeah," the warrior interrupted her, waving her hand impatiently. "But you surely didn't look as impressive as you do right now, so the clobber from Heather is still in the lead."
"Ruffnut, I -"
"Listen to me, chick. As long as you don't say you like Heather more than you like us because she picked you a better wardrobe, I have nothing against the change. In fact, I'm all for the change. Get it?"
Whisper looked carefully at her, slightly surprised with her friend's final statement. She suddenly understood the reasons for the anxiety she had noticed just an evening before.
"Is that what it's all about?" she asked shyly. "You think I'd forfeit Heather over you just because of a single package?"
"It sounds awful when you put it this way, so no, I don't. Though we both know that I look rather pale compared to Heather – you know, raven hair, big green eyes, blah, blah, blah. She's a better fighter and a much smarter one… Oh come on, you can't deny that; and as soon as you get to know her a little better, you'll see that for yourself."
Her companion shook her head.
"Ruff, you really deserve a better description than that."
"Listen, all I ask is that you don't forget about us when you become friends with her, okay? Maybe it's dumb-" Ruffnut hesitated; her voice sounded exactly like when she'd been asking Whisper if she had expected the delivery from the Berserkers. "Maybe it's dumb, but I've never really been friends with anyone else than Tuff, and you know what he's like. Astrid had Hiccup and Heather, Heather had Astrid and Fishlegs, and we… we had one another. I guess that's why we care for you so much. We'd just be sorry to lose you."
She wasn't looking at her interlocutor, staring at the floor and only shrugging from time to time instead; on the contrary, Whisper glared at her friend intensively, unable to comprehend how on earth could her friend come to such a conclusion.
"Ruffnut, I've know you and Tuff for barely a month, and you already mean as much to me as a real family. I would never have anyone in your place, and please believe me that I'm not saying it just to calm or cheer you up. No one compares to you, Heather included."
The blonde girl sighed with relief and grinned widely, incapable of responding to that confession in any other way.
She wouldn't have had to do it anyway, as in this exact moment someone knocked firmly against the door. Ruffnut rolled her eyes.
"Nobody's home," she murmured, and walked towards the door. "Who's banging there? Don't you have better things to do?"
"It's me, Snotlout," came a muffled answer. "Our beloved Chief gave a new ordinance, and we need to share the duties. Can I come in?"
The host approached the door unhurriedly, opened it violently, and with a careless gesture, she invited her guest inside. Snotlout nodded in greeting, not daring, however, to voice any additional commentary, and stepped over the threshold. Ruffnut slammed the door right after him.
"As I was saying, we've got a brand new list of jobs, with a whole bunch of new tasks and those few old ones which we didn't finish on time. You know, the stables and other nonsense. Oh, hi Whisper. Looking good," he threw in after a moment. "Hold on, are these trousers?"
The brunette blushed, taken aback with both the compliment and the remark that had followed it. She really, really didn't know what to say.
"It's a gift from Heather," she mumbled eventually. "I still don't know if I'll keep it."
"That's not true," Ruffnut chimed in, baring her teeth in a grin. "That decision's been made already. And you better stop asking stupid questions and just tell her she looks good."
"And what did I just do?" Snotlout bridled.
"Fine, so what are you here for again?"
"I – I've just – ugh!" The young Jorgenson hit his fist against his forehead, wholeheartedly trying to remain at least relatively calm. "Why the hell am I wasting my breath for you if you don't even listen?!"
"No idea, sweetheart. You'll have to answer this one yourself." Ruffnut said impassively, ignoring her guest's growling.
"Ruff, you know we don't have time for this. Do you really want to listen to another of Hiccup's sermons?"
"Honestly, I don't care, I never listen to him anyway. But okay, His Highness desires to see us. Tell me when and where, and I'll come."
"Yeah, as if that guy had enough time to meet with us," Snotlout snorted and, having pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, he waved it in the air. "He hardly deigned to find a minute to explain the list he'd given me. What we need to do now is meet with the rest of the gang, and decide who's responsible for what, and then… Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"
The Viking grimaced in pain as he felt sharp teeth clenching on his calf. A mix of irritation and weariness reflected on his face when he'd realised that a creature responsible for this unpleasant feeling was a small dragon, a Terrible Terror, sinking his fangs in the legs of his trousers.
Alarmed, Whisper bit her lip – while Ruffnut didn't as much as think of hiding her obvious amusement.
"Well well, look who's decided to visit," she exclaimed, intertwining her fingers and staring at the intruder with delight. "Hey Snotlout, isn't that your little friend whom you trained so well back in the Academy? So many years and he can still remember the training – who would've thought you're such a great Dragon Whisperer?"
"Not helping, Ruffnut!" the boy cried, glancing at the animal. "Stupid dragon. Ouch!"
"You need help?" Whisper chimed in at last, watching the whole scene with a growing worry. "Is there any way to-"
"Ah, forget it," Snotlout grunted. "This guy won't give up until something bigger scares him off. I'll have to ask Hookfang for assistance, although we all know how eager to help me that reptile is."
Whisper gave him a sceptical glare.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, yeah. Now you better take a look at this Terror, it seems like he has some parchment tied to his leg."
The dark-hair girl approached him and kneeled, simultaneously eyeing the violet dragon. Indeed, there was a small scroll attached to its paw; Whisper unbound it, stood up, and gave it to Snotlout without uttering a single word.
However, he only glanced at the letter and shook his head immediately. "It's addressed to the Twins. The dragon glued itself to me for personal reasons."
The girl didn't comment, turning back to Ruffnut, who suddenly appeared to be extremely excited.
"Ha! I told you she'd write!" she called out triumphantly, unfolding the parchment. "I knew Heather would want to know how you liked that gift from her. Now you can write back and in all honesty tell her that we're all amazed by her choice."
"Ruff, I'm not sure the message is from Heather," Snotlout suggested anxiously.
"Come on, do you really think there's enough people messaging me to make me lose track? Even our parents don't do that. I'm telling you, the letter is from Heather."
Yet, as her gaze moved over the unevenly written lines, her smile faltered, and her face began to pale; the expression of feisty self-confidence disappeared, replaced by uneasiness and consternation.
She looked up at her companions a moment later, and dead-panned, "Parents."
Silence fell on the room, ringing hollowly in the three friends' ears. Ruffnut got back to the letter, analysing it attentively, furrowing her brows and biting her lips, clearly disturbed; Whisper stared at her stubbornly, feeling her own concern grow, trying with all of her might to chase away the pessimistic thoughts that had suddenly appeared in her mind.
Only Snotlout seemed to be perfectly composed. With his arms crossed on his chest, he kept glancing at the blonde warrior almost wearily, and when he finally met Whisper's anxious gaze, he barely shrugged in response. Seeing her reproachful glare, he rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Alright, Ruffnut, would you please be so kind and explain what it's all about?"
It was the warrior's turn to look up at him.
"I told you. It's about our parents," she grunted.
"I understood that much. Are they alive?"
"What?! Of course they are!"
"Are they heavily wounded, dying, with no chance of survival?"
"What are you even talking about?!"
"Then what the Thor is going on here?"
Ruffnut froze in place for a second, surprised. Just for a second, though.
"Well if you must know, our dear Mum and Dad decided to come back from their vacation a little earlier," she said. "Apparently, they concluded that they were bored with uncle's Eric company-"
"What?!" her interlocutor shouted, and then burst into most cordial laughter. "Oh Thor, seriously? Ove and Lara are coming back? Oh, this is too good to be real – I mean, you didn't expect them to come for the next three months or more, and-"
"It's not funny!"
"Yes it is! Incredibly funny, really! Can you even imagine what it'll be like? They come back, blissfully unaware of anything and BOOM! They find a new resident, of whom you two obviously didn't even say a word, so – get that thing away from me!"
No one was able to say how and when the heavy axe appeared in Ruffnut's hands – sufficient to say, it was mere moments later that its blade was hovering right next to Snotlout's throat, so close, that the Viking barely dared to swallow.
"Alright, pal, enough joking," the girl drawled through her gritted teeth. "You have two options now. Either you finish with those stupid comments of yours and help me find out a solution for this problem, or you'll be looking for your head somewhere around the Outcasts' Island. What do you say?"
"Geez, Ruff, I was just kidding! Put the axe away and let me think for a moment, and maybe I'll manage to come up with something!"
"So you'll help me?"
"Loki's grace, yes, of course I will! Listen, can we for a second act like adults for once?"
The blonde warrior snorted, but threw the murderous tool aside; Snotlout put his hand to his throat in a reflex action, and started to massage it, not letting her out of his sight for a moment.
"Okay, so when do they come back exactly?"
"In three weeks."
"Not so bad. Your face suggests they're about to pop in here tomorrow."
"Can we leave my face out of this and focus on what we need to do?"
"Hey, I'm just emphasising that it's not such a tragedy. Looking for positives? No? Alright, fine, I see that's a no. What we have to do right now is to think where we can accommodate Whisper when your parents come back, or better still, before they do. She may put up with you two somehow, but four Nuts under one roof is a challenge of its own, and no, I'm not trying to offend you. So, we need to find some other place where she could settle, and-" The boy scratched his chin thoughtfully, letting his gaze wonder around the room, and then stilled, shifted his sight on his two listening companions, and announced, "And I may have an idea how to do this."
"Mildew's hut. Okay. Why?" Fishlegs rested his hands on his hips, staring at the crumbling dwelling, casting more and more sceptical glares at Snotlout as he did.
"Because I have a plan, and it's genius."
Fishlegs raised his eyebrows in an ironic grimace. Had they been accompanied by Hiccup, he surely would have exchanged more than a few knowing looks, together with his Chief smiling at Snotlout's words and his usual self-confidence; but of course, Hiccup was not there with them.
He never was.
"Okay, okay," the fair-haired Viking answered after a while. "I'm just trying to understand why you couldn't have shared this genius plan of yours in some more civilised place, where we could all get much more easily, instead of dragging us to the other side of the island. What's going on here?"
"Listen to me, Fishface. First of all, it's no 'other side', because we're still pretty much in the same part of Berk. Second, don't you get it?" Snotlout pointed the decayed building with both of his hands. "This is our solution to all this! And moreover, it's absolutely legit!"
"Wait, what?" Tuffnut chimed in as he'd landed right behind his friends' backs. "You said it would be fun! What kind of fun is it if we're acting legally?"
Snotlout spun on his heel, visibly irritated with this total lack of support. "What do you say for Hiccup not killing us when he finds out?"
"Boring!" The siblings answered in unison.
"Oh gods." The young Jorgenson pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Fishlegs, are we really trying to marry into this family?"
His interlocutor's cheeks reddened immediately as he bore his gaze into the ground, embarrassed, simultaneously mumbling an unintelligible answer under his breath. Snotlout didn't even try to delve into what his companion had had in mind, and instead, he focused on Skullcrusher, who had just appeared by the Twins' side this moment – and as usual, he caught their attention in an instant. With the old custom, Tuffnut saluted the former trapper, while Ruff grinned widely, wiggling her eyebrows in a highly suggestive way. Snotlout snorted.
'This is never going to end.'
The Viking noticed that Eret had been staring at him questioningly, but only shrugged in response. With a wave of his hand, he ordered both him and the rest of the Riders to leave their mounts and join him and Fishlegs on the glade before the modest hut. Whisper was sitting on a rock a dozen or so feet away.
Eret spoke up first.
"Listen, Snotlout, whatever it is you want to tell us, you better do it quickly. Hiccup has already made me promise to see him later this afternoon, and I don't think he'll be particularly happy to see me late."
"We haven't even started, and he's causing problems already," the other man groaned in answer. "Alright guys, listen. As you are well aware of, His Highness the Chief gifted us with a new portion of tasks today, which we – of course – won't finish on time anyway. Never mind. Most of this listing is about those of the duties that we didn't fulfil last week, so even more feeder repairing etcetera. I've got it with me, so we can start sharing in a moment."
"Okay," Tuffnut nodded. "But we've done this hundreds of times already, and you've never told us to meet in some super-secret places. Why is this time any different?"
"Because, you mutton-head, your parents have decided to come back to Berk two months earlier than they had planned, and this highly affects your living arrangements, and in result, kind of eliminates Whisper's further stay."
"Wait, Mum and Dad are coming back?" The fair-haired Viking disrupted, turning towards his sister with a bright smile, as if in search for confirmation of this wonderful news; after a moment, however, he focused his attention on Snotlout again, clearly confused. "Hold on a second. Why don't I know anything about it? And why do you know anything about it?"
"It's a long story." Ruffnut sighed wearily. "Go on, Snot."
"Why, thank you kindly. One way or the other, the endless list of never-ending repairs and a grumpy Chief has just been joined by the matter of Whisper's removal. The same reasons for which she couldn't stay with anyone but the Twins at first make it impossible for her to live with anyone else now. We have about three weeks for the entire operation – we won't build a house in such a time, but Hookfang burn me, if we can't refit the one behind my back."
Having finished his speech, Snotlout crossed his arms on his chest, and looked around proudly, curious about his companions' reaction. In all honesty, he wouldn't have been surprised if his proposition had been met with a general reluctance, and he was fully prepared for it, still having a few aces up his sleeve. However, to his huge astonishment, nobody seemed to be against the idea – the Vikings were nodding in unison, thinking, and only Fishlegs appeared to have any doubts according the plan. Snotlout turn directly towards him.
"Stop squirming, Fishface, and just tell us what you don't like about it."
"You know, it all looks very nice in theory," his interlocutor answered calmly. "I just don't understand how you can call it legal. Didn't Hiccup tell us directly that Mildew's hut had to be destroyed? Multiple times?"
"All I can recall is that every time the question is brought up, Hiccup says that, 'the house must be knocked before it falls on someone's head' and that 'there's no point in repairing it, as it won't be useful to anyone.' Well, if we take good care of it, we'll eliminate the risk that somebody will really get hurt – as for its usefulness, I don't think anyone could doubt that there is a tenant to benefit from it. We just have to be careful now, so our favourite leader doesn't find out before the work is done – as long as we do, it should all be fine. Now who's with me?"
As if ordered, four hands rose up in the air; even Fishlegs, so sceptical at the beginning, turned out to be quite easily persuaded by the arguments his short friend had presented.
Maybe it wasn't exactly the way their Chief would have approved of, but like everyone else, he was too tired with his current behaviour to care about the possible outburst on his side.
If Hiccup wanted to yell at them, he would come up with a suitable reason anyway.
"Hold on a second," Eret disrupted the momentary silence. "I'm happy we all agree on this, but it looks like anyone asked for the future inhabitant's opinion. Whisper, what do you think of it? All other issues aside, are you sure you want to live in such a… Well, basically, in a middle of nowhere?"
The girl furrowed her brows thoughtfully.
"I had some doubts," she admitted, rising from her seat and approaching a moss-grown wall, eyeing it attentively. "I did, although the place was not a reason for them. However, we discussed the whole affair with Snotlout carefully, and in this situation, it does seem to be the best of options. Under the condition that we will stick to a few rules, of course."
Five friends pricked up their ears, waiting in anticipation for further explanation.
"First of all, our work here cannot affect your availability – all of your duties must be fulfilled with even engagement, as if this hut didn't exist. If Hiccup gives you an order, it must be carried out regardless of the pace with which the work here advance. Besides, if this rebuild is supposed to remain a secret – and not just for a week, but three – we must adjust our everyday behaviour to it; so for example, make sure that most of our old habits remains unchanged. We need to keep up appearances – if we start to disappear from the village with every arising opportunity, we will immediately cause suspicions. Snotlout must still take his daily naps, Fishlegs must drown in his books, and a prank or two could be of some use as well – all within reason, of course. Only if we keep to this, we have a chance of gaining enough time to finish the repairing in time."'
Instead of responding to her offer directly, Tuffnut threw his arm in the air with brand new zeal. Whisper smiled encouragingly, curious to hear what her friend had to say; she saw that her companions are at least equally intrigued.
"I've got a petition," the Viking stated proudly, lowering his hand as quickly as he had raised it. "What do you say we dethrone Hiccup and make Whisper a Chief instead?"
The whole group burst into cordial laughter; Ruffnut clapped, Snotlout and Eret firmly announced their support for the idea, and Fishlegs, with a gentle grin on his lips, shook his head piteously. The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes as she still stood outside the main circle, but did not comment on Tuffnut's words. She was smiling, too.
Eret turned towards her once more, meaning to resolve the last of doubts that were still concerning him.
"Through all of your speech, you constantly used the word 'we'. How should we understand that?"
Whisper sent him a mischievous grin.
"That's my most important condition – if there is to be done anything here, I want to actively participate in it. And don't you dare tell me that I won't manage, because I'm resolved to prove you wrong."
I want to thank you again for all of your support - I hardly ever respond to comments but trust me, I read them all and I do that more than once - and each of them means a world to me. Warorpeace, warlocktoungue, thepurplewriter333, athingsofvikings, wikelia, QueenoftheWilderwest and all the guests - you are the best. Thank you so much.
Okay, that's it - until the next time, and hopefully, it won't take too long.
God bless you all my lovely people
Margaret