Chapter 4

Hiccup watched in a daze as Astrid sprinted out, the blonde locks flailing with the motion, and for the first time, that little bud of hope in him that he might come back to the village faltered.

In the time he'd known - or, well, watched her, Astrid always seemed to be smarter than most Vikings he'd seen. Level headed and stubborn to a fault, but she always knew when things went too far (with the exception of the other teens' treatment of him). But this was like she'd just acted out of emotion entirely, as if the fact that two Night Fury's were here was such a vile idea that she threw herself at them like this.

What's more, she never fled. Not once had anyone in the village seen Astrid back down from a fight; not against adults twice her age with a dozen times the strength. Or against dragons as big as the house she slept in. Hiccup had heard the stories of her uncle who'd frozen up at the sight of a Flightmare, and believed that to be why she was such a brazen warrior and a classic Viking. She would most likely be chosen to succeed him, now, he remarked to himself. Once Snotlout had been shown to be entirely incapable of doing anything aside from boasting, that is.

Toothless was sat at his side, the anger he'd shown moments ago gone as he seemed to have sensed the dilemma he battled through at the time, watching carefully.

He knew from her reaction her thoughts on it and he sighed loudly and leaned downward, the swirl of sorrow and that pit he'd been sunk in since he'd woken up in this new body threatening to overtake him again. Hiccup didn't let it, instead he pushed his body against Toothless', and chuffed, moving himself.

"Show, fly again?" He asked quietly, and Toothless seemed to want to say something else, but nodded with a lopsided gummy grin at him, yet his eyes held some slight apprehension.

Stepping forward, Hiccup just pushed the scent of Astrid out of his head, and went into that position he'd been shown. Leaning forward, joints in his legs bent as his wings spread a little less than fully. Tail off the ground; inner flaps extended, the smaller ones at his tip out and he looked over his shoulder, then to Toothless, who nodded his head with an affirmative croon. The other began walking around him a circle and nudging which parts of him needed a tweak in position, completing his check and then standing before him again.

"Close wings, then, again." Toothless ordered, pride all over him, positively preening how quickly he could work things out, wanting to have him be able to snap and open his wings whenever he needed. Some kind of muscle memory training Hiccup surmised, as he spent the next while opening and closing his flaps, fins and wings until it was like stretching his legs - something he could do without even thinking about it - it felt quite nice to stretch his wings after not having done so for a while. He'd gotten it down to something quick as snapping his fingers soon enough, but it made him sore.

"Good now?" He asked, smiling softly, his gums showing and swaying his hips to the sides in playful happiness. That gnawing sadness in his head being battled away by the pride in his chest, looking up at Toothless who seemed to have his eyes glazed a little, staring off into the distance. Hiccup gave a gentle warm croon to his friend and poked his snout gently with his own, which seemed to stir him. He smiled and nodded quickly.

"Hatchling learn quick!" He roared happily, but the end of it trailed off, and this only brought a frown to the other, who sat down in front of him and tilted his head.

"Tooth-less good?" He softly rumbled, tilting his head and frowning; he seemed to have been pulled away by some thought or idea, and he recognised the glazed look as one he'd have when he still had his human body - that far off stare that wasn't entirely focused on anything while he chewed an idea or invention in his head.
There was a long pause between the question and reply this time, which came as a gentle butting of his head and a purr echoed between the two.

"Sleep, now. First-light, you fly." The dragon said, and as if to show just how serious he was he gently pinched the smallest of Hiccup's ear plates, which received a little yowl from the fledgling. Hiccup nipped back at him in reply, grinning, but not quite forgetting the look just yet - he must have more to say. He didn't push him, standing up and heading over to the shaded spot between the trees, and behind a large cluster of rocks. Toothless followed after a second, by the sound of it, and the boy tentatively waited for him to lie down first. The other smiled slightly and spread a wing, and he crawled in to the warm, soft space of scales. His body resting against the larger dragons and he sighed a little while he squirmed his paws and wings to get comfy.

The call in his mind that this was strange and wrong was absent now, and he wasn't even afraid of the dragon anymore; or even angry. Hiccup realised he trusted Toothless, something he'd not been able to do in years - not since his childhood friends had matured into vikings, and become hostile and shunned him for the crime of merely being different to them - and now, a dragon. A creature he'd been taught from birth was an unthinking, unfeeling beast that would destroy homes and steal food without a second thought, that had killed hundreds of his people; was here. Caring for him more than his father ever had; a stranger, and yet a companion all the same.

Hiccup was safe, and happy as he fell asleep, a small smile on his face as he was wrapped in the other dragon's warmth and care.

Berk had been quiet since the incident in the ring and the news that their captive had escaped. Even the gulls at the port seemed to have gone silent out of respect for the Viking's plight, the only sounds were the crashing of waves into rock and the creaking of trees on the wind. Even the usual rabble rousers were quiet, and the twins had left off of causing trouble.
The evening brought some activity; a ceremony for the six men who had died from their wounds fighting the demonic beast they'd fought in the Arena. Their bodies were laid on wooden pyres on a ship each, their helmet on their heads and weapons in hand so they could be sent off to Valhalla, archers at the ready higher up on the docks as the village stood somberly below, fathers and mothers giving speeches and weeping. Their chief pushed each ship out with barely restrained anger, the monster of a Viking pushing them a good distance out to sea with a shove of his arms and a groan from the wooden ships as they rocked against the water.

Stoick committed their names to memory; a long list of good men and women who'd died fighting the scourge his forefathers had battled and the very beast he'd lost his son to. The dragon's would pay, no matter the cost. Even if he had to break from Valhalla on his passing and take the fight to them past his death, they would die at his hand for what they had taken from him.

Stoick hadn't even noticed his friend Gobber approaching until he'd felt his hand clasp on his shoulder and a sigh come from his mouth.

"So. Eh, what've ye got in mind?" The blacksmith spoke, always able to tell when his best friend had some kind of plan or scheme building. Stoick took a deep breath and released it, standing straight and looking out to the burning ships at sea.

"We sail for the nest. Every able bodied Viking. Send word to the other tribes that we're doin' it and for them to be welcome to join." He barked out, his words disguising the grief he still felt, the desire to ride out alone and fight them all by himself, self preservation to be damned. But Stoick knew, to have even a good chance at reaching the nest and to kill as many of the devils as he could.

Gobber seemed like he wanted to say more, but he sighed and nodded his head.

"I'll get the.. Eh…shipwrights on et." He said quietly and trudged off, the worried look his friend sent him was completely missed as he looked downward and over his people.

Stoick would do anything for his people, but he'd been so blind until now. Even after Valka he held the tiny hope in him that one day the dragons would stop their attacks on his people, that he'd never send off another ship with someone's loved ones in it. But now he didn't even have Hiccup.

He only hoped he'd died fighting it, so that he'd meet him at the Table of Kings once again.

Stoick the Vast stood over his people and watched them, a shepherd tending his flock, and a single tear trailed down his pale skin and disappeared in his mighty beard. He took a deep breath, and turned around.

The dragons would pay.

The screeches and roars were the first thing Hiccup woke up to, the sound traveling to his ears, the slightest echo telling him that he was far from danger. He slowly moved, feeling Toothless against him as he stirred, shuffling his sleepy limbs and letting out a questioning croon. Poking his head out from under the wing he had slept under, and saw that his friend was already awake, neck craned up as he listened carefully to the sounds, gazing down at him with a squinted eye and a grim expression, huddling his wing over Hiccup a little tighter.

"What sound?" He asked with a tired growl.

"Nest-attack. Winged ones from my nest. Food-take." He said slowly.

Hiccup sat up a little more and looked up at the night sky, seeing the fire and embers rising into the darkness before frowning a little at the words. Or, sounds. He knew it was another raid, but it was so soon after the last one; it'd been less than a week since the last one, and that had never happened before. Dragon raids had come around every two or so months, but literally never had they come so quickly between each other.

Oddly, he wasn't worried for the people there. He dug for any feeling of fear or grief for them, but he just felt that he was safer for it: there would never be any Vikings coming out this far from the village for any reason, which meant he was safe to be with Toothless. So he burrowed into his side and hid under his neck, the calls of dragons in distress making him uncomfortable; no longer just screeches and roars but sounds of pain and fear, so he kept himself stuck under the other's neck, sitting in the silence.

"What your name mean?" Toothless asked him after a time, poking the back of his head with his snout, which made him shake it a little and rumble, butting his head up gently and warbling softly which was mimicked back to him after a second.

Hiccup grumbled a little bit and looked up, making eye contact and huffing. Would his newfound friend even understand the context of it? The boy sat up a little more and grumbled again.

"Sound we could make. But meant... runt. Weak. Failure, not strong." He sighed, and looked back at his friend with a tired smile, shaking his head.

"Made sense, at least. Couldn't..." He trailed off and hid his face in Toothless' neck again to a comforting purr.

"Need new name." The other said after a while, sitting up and huffing a little, angrily. The screams were making him feel sickened, and he shuffled out of the safety and warmth of his friends wing to stand. He walked over slowly to the lake in front of them, dipping his snout in to start drinking while he thought. It wasn't bothering him so much, the idea of not having the name which had become synonymous with all the accidents he caused and him in general, being so boney and frail compared to everyone else in the village and so different in his ideas.

As he thought about his past, he found the feelings that usually came up when he thought about it were at the back of his mind, where usually they'd be all he could feel or think about. A break in the dam he precariously rebuilt every time it broke - when he broke. Thinking on what he'd endured up to this point was all put into a strange sense of perspective; he was a dragon now. And for as long as that was true, none of that mattered, he just had to keep surviving until it wasn't, and then he could think of what the village would think when he returned.

Finishing his drinking, Hiccup nearly stumbled back with a yell as he found Toothless staring into his face with a grin, falling into the lake almost with a screech, catching himself and merely clumsily keeping on his feet, rolling his eyes at him to disguise his embarrassment.

"You name Small-Claw." Toothless warbled at him smugly, his face only rising into a grin as he watched the incredulous impression Hiccup took on, stomping his forepaw to the ground.

"I not small!" He all but whined, and pounced his friend, and to anyone watching it would've proved the other's point, Toothless was longer and had more muscle packed on while he looked a little bony for his age.

"Small-Claw not bad name! Tooth-less bad name!" The other dragon warbled, laughing through it as he found himself pinned underneath his friend who was nipping at his ear-plates and neck. Trying to tug on his scruff with a small growl; the play fighting in full swing as he rolled suddenly, putting his world into blackness for a second as he was covered by the other dragon's wings and then it was brighter. The two of them rolling together and growling at each other, nipping and batting with their paws for a long while; the screams in the distance a faded echo in their cove while they enjoyed themselves like hatchlings in the nest, something Toothless seemed to tell he was lacking as a Viking, and was more than happy to give as a Night Fury.

Hiccup, or - Small-Claw, very much enjoyed the rough housing; and got to admire his stronger body as they tumbled into the smooth stones and over fallen trees without a bruise. They were free to nip and snap at each other's bodies freely. Their play even ended up in the shallow part of the lake, where the game changed to a splashing, underwater tag - Toothless butting his chest with his head and then diving through the water away from him while Hiccup chased him, getting to grips with angling his body through water and keeping his form streamlined, pushing off the dirt at the bottom with a kick and a silty cloud while he jetted into his friends path missing by mere moments.

Hiccup didn't even begin to notice that he didn't have to surface to breathe air until they brought it back to the land, panting and huffing with wry, playful draconic smirks, and he heaved air into his lungs loudly, wheezing a little and falling to the ground with a little thump. Toothless was by his side immediately and nudging at his muzzle worriedly; not noticing the small smile on his snout until he butted the larger dragon in the chest and darted away from the confused reptile, standing a few steps away from him in a low down, playful stance.

He barely had any time to react; Toothless clearly displeased with being tricked, pounced at him with a growl, and it was only by virtue of being smaller he was able to dodge as the dragon sailed over him, missing him only just, and he took the time to bound away as Toothless recovered behind him, chasing him quickly and they continued their boundless enjoyment in the company of one another.

Finally, he was caught when he tried to bounce up and off a rock face to turn himself around, but had been pulled down out of the air and barreled into by the other dragon, who insistently pinned him to the dirt with a proud rumble. Hiccup was panting even more than Toothless was, and after a few moments like this he tried to nudge him off of his body; to which his friend obliged, but not before giving him a long wet lick across his face with plenty of spit, and coming to lay next to him, their bellies up.

"I winner! But, you so fast. Very... like… white-tails; small, fast!" Toothless warbled, as he got his breath back beside him in the grass and dirt, purring constantly through his huffs.

"Running… make Small-Claw tired fast." He noted softly, shuffling on his back a bit closer to the purring lizard who reciprocated; as he found that even the small, reaffirming touches and closeness were so meaningful to him now.

"Sometimes that good. Run faster, mean go further in less. No prey last that long in hunt." Toothless rumbled, smiling at him.

The odd way of structuring their sentences was also slowly starting to click for Hiccup. They had no names for things like humans did, naming by appearance or quality. He assumed white-tails were rabbits or hares, and that Vikings were two-leggeds or something similar.

Toothless looked at him slowly and frowned, suddenly bumping his nose into Hiccup's neck, and he frowned right back, recoiling a little but not moving away, as the dragon sniffed him loudly and deeply.

"Tooth-less, what you scent for?" The dragon panickedly warbled, the overly intrusive snout pushing down his neck and to his stomach, where he pushed a paw into his nose and huffed at Toothless.

"You not smell that?" He warbled, standing up and looking around slowly, raising his head up to look at the rocks that clustered around the edges of their cove, crouching protectively above him and spreading his wings again like when Astrid had been there; the defensive body language putting Hiccup on edge and he slowly tugged himself under them with a quiet, worried whimper.

Toothless carried on like this for a few minutes, sniffing the air again and again, as he surveyed around them with a rumble, until he finally deemed that it was safe by folding his wings in again and looking at him.

"Sleep in trees this night… not sure what scent is, but it close." He said, nipping at Hiccup's jaw to get him to come with him, which he did quickly. Something having Toothless on edge was never a good thing, he figured - and he didn't think he could sleep without him if he tried.

They stood beneath the two largest trees in the cove, and he was shown how to climb them with his claws and how to use his tail to wrap around a branch so he could sleep and not fall in the night; which was actually rather surprising. Hiccup managed to scale the tree, then onto a branch, and once he'd wrapped his tail, he didn't feel very confident on the entire idea, the branch was so thin compared to his body - so Toothless gave a small huff from next to him and batted him with a wing, knocking him off the branch with a surprised roar, watching the ground race to meet him, only for it to stop a good distance away, and heard next to him his snickering lookalike and so Hiccup grumbled, and tucked his wings into himself and gave him the cold, scaled shoulder as his eyes shut.

He heard a small creak and a warm, wet tongue ran over his cheek, telling him it was only a joke, and he smiled a bit, and gave a soft croon, before resting in the tree.

As he drifted off, he silently thanked whatever had done this and given him a friend for the first time.

Toothless' eyes snapped open, and he sniffed the air slowly. That scent was back again, and this time it was much closer. It smelt just like another scaled-flier, but there was something beneath it; that telltale stench of a two-legged, but it was so weak it was nearly unnoticeable. Last he'd smelled it he'd pushed it off as nothing, but it was back. And it was closer to him and Small-Claw. He had to keep him safe; his progress was good so far, but for his age he was still barely able to do anything that he should be. But being turned from a two-legged into a Night One didn't help, he imagined.

The dragon slowly unfurled his tail from the tree and flipped his body around, landing on the ground facing the centre of the cove, and he let out a wordless warning growl into the clearing, loud enough to let anything within it know to come no closer, and also hopefully to alert Small-Claw from his sleep.

All of his senses on alert, he stepped closer to the lake, prowling carefully as his ear-plates rotated and listened out, while he moved his head around - whatever was here was stalking them. It had found them in the night and had come back in the light; telling him it was most likely a two-legged, as they were unable to see in the dark as well.

A thud followed by a whine told him that Small-Claw was out of the tree and he looked back at him for a second, making a last check of the tops of the rocks around them, and growled a little louder before cutting it off.

"Not safe here. Something looking at us." He warned his friend, eyes on the worried fledgling who stood low to the ground, belly in the dirt, prepared to flee.

"What here? Female… claw fighter?" The small one warbled carefully, and his wide eyed gaze made him feel more tense.

"No, scale-wing, but also two-legged. Gone now." He rumbled with a shake of his head. He couldn't word the odd scent, it had been so similar to both of the species it was impossible to tell if it was one or the other.

He'd lied, but the relaxed stance Small-Claw took immediately as he said it was worth it; he could protect him if it came to it, but this stranger - if a scale-wing - most likely was a scavenger and would attack alone.

He gazed at the smaller dragon and thought for a moment, inspecting him. It was strange to him that the two-legged in the forest who'd freed him was also this Night One; yet he saw it in him. In those eyes and how he behaved and held himself and moved - he was definitely battling his instincts, as the small conversation he'd had with 'him' a night ago showed him. Trapped in a body that was not his with ideas that were not his - even when they played together the small thing seemed afraid of hurting him on accident despite that being the very point hatchlings played together. But he was going to help; there was something between them he could feel.
A pull, a force. Something that made him want to look after and protect him and show him the world he now lived in as a Night One.

Pulled from his thoughts by a little growl, he snapped his eyes onto the fledgling in question, and saw him sitting before him a little annoyed, and he tilted his head to him with a querying churr.

"I try fly again?" He asked, the sounds scared - as if he'd bite him for daring to ask the question and he rumbled again, nodding.

It was difficult to explain how to fly, especially as he was missing a critical part of his body that allowed him to, but Small-Claw seemed to latch onto every word and remember it, and every demonstration he memorised well.

He moved himself, and stood so he had his back to the wall and was facing the lake. This way, if he failed the beginning he wouldn't crash into the dirt again and again and maybe hurt himself.

Crouched, he moved into position, second nature to him.

"Rear leg for pushing off. Front leg for when coming down, run into landing." He explained as best he could, and bounded quickly, racing toward the edge of the water where he leaped into the air and spread his wings, doing what he could to start flight, but quickly turned himself down after flapping his wings slightly; the missing fin meaning if he went any higher he'd roll out of the air and down, so he landed quickly, showing Small-Claw to run as he landed, the stumbled steps hopefully being ignored.

Righting himself, he looked over to the small Night One who looked about ready to leap into the skies already.

"Flap wings as you take off, and keep doing until you're up." He crooned, padding over to his student and waiting a little behind him, who watched him until he was safely a little behind him and took position.

Toothless gazed at his position, making sure he had everything right - the Night One before him braced to go, and he gave him an affirmatory grunt.

Small-Claw wriggled his hind a little, looked to the sky and sighed a breath out, before bounding forward to the lakes edge where he leapt into the air high enough to flap his wings, tail out, fins in position. He started to gain height, further and further he went. Toothless very proud of his movements for his first attempt - until the fledgling looked down, and screeched - wings moving discordantly and flailing, his tail going slack as he seemed to panic and he watched him flail, rolling and spinning in the air until the ground hit him and he lay in the dirt, crumpled with a groan.

He raced over, looking at him and he frowned, nudging the smaller male with his snout and he huffed.

"Not bad for first try!" He rumbled slowly and wanted to push the idea the sight had given him, but made sure Small-Claw was unharmed first.

He heard a little growl and a huff as he got up, and Toothless stepped backward to give him space.

"You afraid of fall?" He asked, not wanting him to try another take off first, and he knew he'd hit on the mark, because the smaller dragon seemed to shrink, pulling into himself and he looked away with a shrug.

"I… saw ground and got scared. Not do again." Small-Claw growled annoyedly, scuffing his paw into the dirt and he righted himself.

Toothless nodded and stepped away again, but not before he'd given his friends cheek a small nudge and let him try again.

The next attempt was better, and the next better than that, but as it kept on, each time the fledgling attempted to go higher than the coves walls or he saw the ground beneath him he'd start to flail and cry out again. But it only seemed to bring him more resolution to do it the next time, only screeching and roaring angrier when he fell the time afterward.

They had been trying since the sun was rising and now it was burning it's radiance down upon them both from near directly above, and Toothless knew he had to force him to take a break - the determination the fledgling had far outweighed his experience in this body which always made him proud.
He watched as Small-Claw flailed, landed and righted himself again before coming over and calling to him to stop.

"Too long. Rest now." He barked as gently as he could, but enough to know that he'd tug him from the sky if he tried again.

The Night One huffed at him and looked as if he wanted to try once more, but made no moves to, his shoulders slumped and walked over to him, dropping down at his feet in a tired pile, the sight making him croon affectionately and he moved quickly to curl up around him, licking a scrap of dirt off of his cheek and he groomed as much of it off as he could. He could feel the shakiness of the dragon and sighed a little, knowing that without food, soon, he'd be too hungry to fly.

He pushed the idea from his head quickly and shook it - Small-Claw was the fastest learning Night One he'd ever met, especially for one who had only been living as one for a few light-cycles.

"Good try! So close! But, don't fear falling. It part of flight!" He said with cheer, trying to comfort the smaller scaled male, who seemed to laugh a little at the words of advice

"Flight just fall, got it." The lilt in his voice made it apparent he was being teased, but he didn't rebut it, just nudged the back of his head and huffed gently.

The silence filled the cove, the warm gentle purr Toothless was putting out, finding that it often helped the smaller one relax even when he was at his tensest; sort of like grabbing him in the scruff with his teeth, but not physically. Pointing even further to the fact that Small-Claw seemed to be aging rapidly mentally by the day. Most likely a side effect of the change he was living through.

Toothless barely even noticed a gentle rattling coming from in front of them off to the side, and he would've thought it were the wind if it weren't for the odd, crouched over… creature in front of him, and he bared his teeth quickly, staring at it, shoving his wings over his charge to cover him and leaning forward with a loud snarl. The creature didn't even flinch.
He could hear Small-Claws fearful whines and he drew him in closer with his tail firmly, not letting the dragon see the intruder, or the other way around.

His growl kept up, as he watched the four legged creature; it was covered in some strange, thin wood coverings with bright colours and horns. In one paw it held a long, blunt stick with a curve at the tip and the rattling seemed to be coming from it - some kind of weapon, he assumed. It seemed to wave it and shake it around its head in a strangely hypnotic way, a blunt circular shape in it's other hand that it held off the ground.

The effect it had was slightly disorienting somehow, but the instinct to keep Small-Claw safe was stronger, and the growl never left his throat as it approached warily. It was most likely a specie of scale-wing he'd never seen before - he did not know how to battle it. What tricks it may have, its age, or what it wanted.

"Stop!" Toothless barked.

But the creature got closer and closer, and it was like it was not afraid of himas it crawled on its forelegs strangely - if it was the scale-wing it smelt like, it was a strange one to him. It walked like nothing else - but the length of its forelegs and hindlegs were almost exactly that of a two-legged, yet it walked like something different.

He watched as it stood straighter, off it's forelegs and then down again, tilting its head to and fro and moving that stick around again and again - it must have been but a few steps from them. So he snarled, ripping the sound from his throat; and it finally stopped its advance. The creature dropped everything but it's stick, which it raised to the air and spun in a circle, and something he recognised finally came down.

A rarely seen but prestigious four-flyer was suddenly above them, circling the small space and growling at him, watching it's wings work was said to calm the mind in some nests. It came down and landed behind the smaller one, lowering its head and staring at them - he could maybe beat him. If the other intervened there was no way to be sure. But he would not give up Small-Claw, not if he still had breath in him.

Panic rose in his mind and he battled it down, clutching the smaller Night One into him as tight as he could, feeling the speedy breaths he was making and he growled at the two of them, even when the smaller one dropped it's stick to the ground and approached closer - did this creature have some kind of death wish? Was it's egg dropped? It came within snapping distance of him and his friend and reached a paw out slowly, and he recognised it as a two-legged hand. Thin and pale reaching toward his snout, and it got gradually nearer and nearer into biting range; he could snap the spindly thing off and it must have known, it wanted him to accept it of his own volition. Despite the danger it was trusting him to not tear the arm off and throw them across the lake.

Two-leggeds were strange things.

It was speaking to him, he realised, but he never could make sense of the language they all spoke. The words were soft and calm and he stared at it, batting it's paw out of his face with his cheek. He didn't care what it wanted or why it thought he was available for touching, he had someone to look after and he wouldn't let this strange two legged near them; suddenly understanding how dams felt for their hatchlings.

Whatever it was, it seemed to know that he was guarding the smaller Night One, as its head slowly moved back and forth between him and his wings, looking over the tail that was poking out and shaking.

He carefully looked at the being as it clicked and mumbled at him and bared teeth. Toothless thought for a moment and grunted to himself. If they were a threat, they would've shown it by now.

With great effort, he beganlowering his head before very carefully sliding his wing back so it could see his friend, too; Small-Claws head poking slowly out and looking at him and then the creature, whining and pushing backward into him.

It seemed to know, poking gently at them and making undecipherable noises, but they seemed to calm his friend some, as he looked between them.

The four-flyer intervened, then, speaking in a growl that held barely restrained suspicion and distaste.

"You come with us, to new nest."

Meanwhile, Toothless growled at the (definitely female) two-leg as she crawled closer again to poke and touch at Small-Claw, investigating his scales and his wings and tail. This would not do, he thought, drawing him in again to his stomach again.

"No. We staying. Her nest maybe not safe. Here safe." He growled, rumbling loudly as the female two-legged kept moving around. She moved gracefully but predatorily, walking around his periphery to force him to track her as she went behind him. Dragging her paws around as she stopped trying to touch them and went back to her four-flyer, which hadn't stopped staring at him with those massive yellow orbs since it'd landed, petting it and it seemed to allow her, strangely.

Small-Claw paused for a moment and looked between her and him.

"We… what if she has… food." The smaller male crooned gently to him, like he was telling him a dark secret.

"We get food. Fish in lake… and, you flying, soon. We okay here." He insisted further, letting out a light huff. He wouldn't accept charity from a stranger, especially if he hadn't earned it.

"I-I…" Small-Claw whined, trailing off. "I… don't know if I will… be able to fly soon enough." He could barely hear the last of it, but he heard the sigh that came out and the pain behind it.

Toothless deflated a little. He couldn't argue against that admission and he looked down at Small-Claw, who looked shakily up at him, eyes wide and afraid but there was that underlying warmth of trust vibrating between them, he could feel it. It felt like the stare lasted a lifetime, like the first few times it had, until it didn't. He looked from his friend, to the female again, before huffing at her and sitting up a little straighter; she'd been petting and speaking to the four-flyer like he knew what she was saying. He huffed at her loudly to get her attention, and she turned to him, walking over in that strange way again and cooing to him - he wasn't a hatchling - and he let out a less overtly aggressive growl, but kept his friend tight to him, making sure the two-legged knew he wasn't going anywhere without him.

Although he couldn't see her mouth, he had a strange idea that the female was smiling at him through that wooden-shell on her head as she tenderly moved a paw to each of their snouts and she moved her claws so perfectly and slowly.

Everything slowly went dark, a wave of strange relaxation running over him as her thin frail digits moved around in his face, hearing a startled cry before it all faded out.