Chapter 7

Author here. Didn't like how I wrote this, so came back to it and revised it instead of forgetting about the story. May edit some small things in the past chapters as well. Thank you for your patience. Apologies for the wait. Expect the next chapter to be out within a week or so.

A week had passed in the nest, spent playing, eating and flying and slowly learning about the culture of the dragons around him. Winter had properly come in, and for the first time in his life, he relished being kept indoors from the ice and snow; and Hiccup didn't have to worry about food. He'd found that the king would leave and come back with a mouthful of fish, which was like a small fleet had dumped its quarry out.

Toothless had told him a little about his species that he could remember; that when the first Night-One had left this world and gone up to the sky and flown from this world, his scales had littered the earth and become Night-Ones too. This was the story all Night-One's told their hatchlings and what Toothless had been told. Apparently he'd lost them when he flew too close to the Nest he used to be on, and the Queen had pulled him in somehow - he wasn't getting much out of the stubborn dragon but he never pushed, the sad look in his eye enough to deter him.

The two-leg woman that had brought them here occasionally checked up on both of them, lifting Hiccup's wings and making sure he was eating properly. From her, Hiccup had regained some of his grasp on Norse as the woman was content to talk to herself, and after a while he'd been able to understand it again, if only a little. He did not know her name or where she was from, only that she cared for the dragons like her own. The four-winged dragon followed her around and didn't speak much, but it always had the same bemused twinkle in its eye as it looked over the two of them and he'd seen him watching them from a vantage point where the two-leg seemed to live.

However, Hiccup was still not allowed out and the boredom was getting to him. Other dragons simply came, told him it was time for food, and left without speaking else, and despite learning everything he could from Toothless, the King still hadn't allowed for anyone else to talk to him it seemed. Toothless, in strange solidarity to it, had not spoken to anyone else either, spending all his time with Hiccup.

It was on a quieter than usual winter evening the King had summoned Hiccup, and he padded down the rocks diligently; it would seem that no matter what body he had, that tell-tale clumsiness still affected him, as he'd stumbled and slipped a few times on the way down. He stood in front of the enormous white dragon and sat, bowing a little as a sign of respect as the other dragons did and waited for him to talk, trying to keep his tail and ear-plates still as the curiosity gnawed at his chest.

"Night-One. I have sent my wings far and wide in every direction, to any nest that would accept them. I am afraid that nobody has heard of what you have suffered here, not the eldest nor wisest of us all. I would apologise to you." That overpowering rumble came through, the King speaking aloud and drawing the attention of more than a few nestmates, who poked snouts over the rocks and watched silently, listening to their King. Hiccup frowned a little and looked down, batting a rock off the ledge with a paw.

"In light of this news, however, I will accept you into my nest. You will live as one of my own. I would also accept your brother in scales." The King growled out, his eyes peering into Hiccup's own, but he found none of the depth that Toothless had despite them being so much bigger.

"I would welcome you both to my nest as my own. As fledglings, I would not ask you to fight for us; but I would not stop you should you wish to. You must gather food for the hatchlings at least one night cycle of six. Lastly," His gaze turned hard, and he peered out toward the others around the nest, "You must never fly near the mists. The Queen there will take you and keep you; I have lost too many to her reach." Hiccup turned to see Toothless beside him suddenly, not having heard him approach. He looked sad, and Hiccup gave his cheek a small lick and purred. He knew if he accepted, Toothless would.

"I accept. I would be nestkin until life leaves me and I join my kin in the skies." The words weren't his, but he knew they were true. Hiccup looked to his side, and heard Toothless grunt them out too, and the King nodded, before a loud chorus rose up from around them. Turning his head, he saw that hundreds and hundreds of dragons were flapping their wings and screeching victoriously, bobbing their heads. Some released flames to the air and some sprayed water. Hiccup felt and heard their acceptance from every corner of the nest - even the two-leg had come forward from her dwelling and was smacking her paws together, jumping up and down and calling like her four-winged companion.

Hiccup was glad dragons couldn't cry.

Toothless butted him and he turned his head to his friend, grinning widely and licking his muzzle loosely, the two giving one another affection in front of the King, who Hiccup would swear had the smallest little turn up on his maw, a miniscule grin. The acceptance brought only happiness to his heart and he got on his hind legs, Toothless doing the same as he thought they were going to roughhouse their celebration out. Until Hiccup moved his stubby forelegs out, and wrapped them around his friends neck, giving him the dragon approximation of a tight hug, heads gently together and he was purring madly. Toothless wobbled a little at the odd position, but quickly reciprocated the purrs and Hiccup shook with delight. His whole life, he'd never been accepted by the people he was born into, who had raised him because he was different. Because he couldn't lift an axe or throw a spear or shoot a bow; his only use to the people of Berk having been fixing and forging weapons. A thankless job that even someone a third his age could do if they bothered. The Vikings didn't bother. If something didn't work, it just didn't work and you left it. His own father, who'd known loss, had left his own son. Hiccup had plenty of time to think about things here in the nest, and had come to his own sort of peace over the fact that Hiccup would never see anyone from Berk again.

The two held their awkward draconic hug for as long as he was able, the squawking and cheering of the other dragons dying down and they parted, Hiccup grinning from ear to ear while he relished in the moment he'd been given. To be recognised even as broadly as this meant a lot to his fractured soul, and brought him happiness beyond reasoning, but something still sucked him in and dragged him down. Hiccup looked behind his friend, at his tail. He had no idea how Toothless went on without it now that he could fly (if awkwardly), to the once Viking, it was like a sin, a crime that his friend went on without it.
The dragon stopped hugging his compatriot, frowning a little as that trail of thought continued, pulling him along with it as he thought on what it would mean later - if Toothless couldn't fly and something attacked the nest, how would he protect himself?

This line of thought was smacked from him by the other Night Fury, papping him with the elbow of his wing and shaking his head, snorting.

"Small-Claw think too much." Toothless spoke, sadness in his gentle speech, but he brushed their snouts together all the same. Hiccup shook his head free, and looked at his friend, shrugging and lowering his gaze.

"Need Tooth-less fly again, hurt me." The fledgling rumbled, sitting down on the rocks, the King's watchful gaze bearing down on their conversation, a prickle in his spine.

Toothless snorted, and smacked his friend. "Think about it not make it better."

Small-Claw only nodded and straightened himself out. His mind instead moved on, to how he could fix it. He had not his two-legged fingers and hands, and could not make anything for his brethren. He doubted the female that resided here could either. He was at a loss, but didn't let it suck him down, turning to the King and bowing his head, opening his mouth to be cut off by that regal tone.

"He may fly again. But there is a price." The king said, the majestic white brows coming down and hardening his gaze; Hiccup suddenly feeling like an outsider that had intruded on the nest with the strength of the Alpha's look. The other scale-wings fell away, and it was suddenly the two of them.

"Your loyalty will forever be to this nest. Scale-Wing or not." The white beast spoke to him, and only him, and Hiccup suddenly felt as if he knew more than he was letting on, but he had his answer all the same.

"If Tooth-less is here, then I will be too. " He said, putting a paw forward, as if challenging the Alpha to prove him wrong.

The nest fell back into place around him, Toothless still at his side, his eyes passing between the other Night One and the Alpha, looking as if he were about to start pacing over the mossy stones. Small-Claw looked to his friend, and back at the alpha.

"This home-nest now. Tooth-less home-nest." The Night One called up to the leader with all the authority he could muster, the scale-wing at his side eyeing him unsurely and nudging his side, pulling his attention back with a smile.

Without further conversation, the King heaved forth a great sight of air and shut his eyes. Toothless stepped forward, coming close to the mighty scale-wing and hopped down the rocky hill to the pool he resided in, and for the first time, Small-Claw saw the King's paw. An enormous trunk of a limb that ended with a dozen mighty claws that could rend even the hardest stone from the looks of their sharpness. With an untold gentleness, that same paw pushed on Toothless, touching his snout and for a while, nothing happened. Small-Claw's worry pushed up again, wondering if he'd made a mistake, that this was a test or a trick; but no sooner did those thoughts surface than something started to happen.

Toothless' tail stretched out and went rigid as a sickening sight of bone, sinew and scale started to grow out of the spot where his other tailfin would be. It was grotesque, but Small-Claw was transfixed, staring at the magic as it happened, locked in place. He had no clue how long he waited and watched, but eventually the tailfin was back; a little brighter and shinier than his other being the only mark that it was new, and the King's paw withdrew from his friend.
Small-Claw could see the unbridled excitement in his friend, the happiness emanating from him in an aura as he stared up at the king and bowed as well as he could, before spreading his wings and taking aloft with a victorious screech.

Small-Claw bowed to the King too, who seemed to have fallen asleep from the event, and shot into the sky with his scale-kin, calling to him. They didn't even need to speak, instead they both started to fly together for the first time. A memory so pure and joyous that it brought mirth to his heart, a warbling laugh of delight pushing from his chest as the two spun and sped around the nest. Other dragons took up the call, and watched with shared happiness as they flew around.
The once cramped space of the nest now felt like the biggest, an endless icy skyline for the two to fly around. Small-Claw noted that even in the air, Toothless was much more agile than him, able to make tiny adjustments to his flight path that made the other falter - but Small-Claw had pure speed on his side, his smaller body and stronger wings making up for the difference. The two of them raced for only the Gods know how long, the once-Viking watching in amazement as his brethren pulled off tricks and stunts, spinning and swirling and he called out at each one, howling his amazement at the sight of it.

At some point, the Two-Legged Woman who lived with them in the nest had taken flight atop the four-wing, and was now flying alongside Small-Claw, and she stared at his brethren through the wooden mask, giving him some pause. Two-Leggeds didn't know about magic, he came to the conclusion. She was leaning forward on the Four-Wings head, perched dangerously as she stared at Toothless and his new tail. He wanted to push them to the side for this, but instead allowed them to share in this moment, and he sped ahead, flying wingtip to wingtip with his friend and stared at him.
The joy of flight only increased now they flew together; and Small-Claw knew that no matter what, nothing would take this moment from them. He could leave this world right this instant, and have no regrets left in him.

Two Night Ones soared that day, in the nest of ice, until their wings would hold them aloft no longer and they bundled into their cavern and fell asleep, wrapped in each other's wings and scales.

Berk had never been so bloodied. Not in the three centuries of history had its occupants been so doused in the blood of their enemies.

Gobber had been watching from his stall for the near two weeks since Hiccup's death. The streets were quiet again, the ice halting the dragon raids. It was fact that the ice made it too cold for them to fly the long distance from Helheim's gate to Berk, even when they were the first village to the nest. So now, the long, bitter nights and short, freezing daylight hours were all that the village had. The quiet was uncomfortable. The last week had brought death and bloodshed unseen since the earliest days of the Viking conquest to the lands.

Stoick had set about killing every single dragon around Berk. There had been a small nest of Golphins they'd known of for years but left alone as they were non-violent unless provoked, and a small cluster of Sharkdragons that had been used by the fishermen to dictate when fish would be out as they seemed to hunt at the best times to fish. Stoick had seen to it that every last one of them had been caught and brought to the Arena where either him or the more bloodthirsty of Berks warriors would finish them, screeching and hissing their last.

Gobber had seen more dragons die in the last week than he had in his life, he felt.

The gentle quiet filled the village and the only sound he could hear was the faint crashing of waves and the occasional clang of his hammer. Gobber had been trying his best to craft something he'd found in Hiccup's diary. That kid had so many ideas that he barely even understood. There was this idea for a way to store grain so that dragonfire couldn't burn it, and another that was some kind of bola launcher that could fire high enough to hit a dragon in the air, with interchangeable ammunition to launch a cluster of arrows skyward. He'd been trying to build the mechanism but it was much too fiddly and small for him, the metal he'd been trying to craft was much too precise for his only hand which was more meant for brute forcing metal into the shape than gently bending it.

Hiccup had always been much better with this sort of thing. Gobber had seen him, half asleep in the wee hours of the morning, bent over the forge with some contraption or other. He'd always been angry that the boy had used precious iron and leather for, what he'd kindly deemed, 'functionless claptrap' at the time. But only after he was gone did he see the magic the boy had in his mind. He'd been trying to prove himself every day since he'd started to work in the forge. Gobber had realised that was maybe all Hiccup had ever wanted; for someone, anyone, to recognise him and what he could do - that he deserved to be a Viking. Maybe he could not fight like the others, but this was what he could do.

The blacksmith's guilt grew by the day, it would seem, and it was already weighing on his shoulders like a gronckle had nested between them. But, Vikings weren't to dwell on the past. So now he moved on, and he tried to learn where others would not. To give the village that little flair only the Chief's son could. It was extremely difficult all the same. Hiccup was maybe the smartest person Gobber had ever met, it turned out.

So there he sat, the ice had come in strong and the smith was alight with coals, using the time off from butchering dragons to bring his pupils' work to life; yet it was incredibly frustrating. The blasted, finicky objects simply wouldn't bend to the shape he was seeing in Hiccup's little book, perched on a stand near the forge. He cursed as he twisted too much, and the molten metal snapped into halves, and tossed the whole affair in the bucket of water below him, cursing again.

Gobber held his head in his hand and breathed, sighing cool breaths in and out, before reaching to get the metal from the bucket, and lifting the wet iron out and back to the forge, and started again. Hiccup would send him some sassy comment and he'd return with a gentle jab to the boy's shoulder and he'd start again. So that is what Gobber did; he started again for the fourth time that evening with gusto. Stoick seemed intent on forgetting his son through killing as many of the creatures that had taken him as he could, but the blacksmith was going to honour the memory of him, what little he could and had left.

Small-Claw stirred. His sleep restless, something pulling at him, tugging him from his sleep. A barely perceptible sound that whispered to him and ordered his attention. He didn't know when it started, but he knew it was getting on his nerves. Toothless was already awake, eyeing him as he lifted his head up from his forelegs.

"You hear her too." The scale-wing surmised, and the smaller nodded to him, frowning.

"What is it?" Small-Claw murred, stretching his body out a little and shuffling a little closer to the safety of his friend.

"The Queen is singing. Calling for… Night One." Toothless churred softly, shutting his eyes and shaking his head as if to free the sound from his ears. Small-Claw frowned deeply.

"She want you back? She know you left for here?" This worried Small-Claw a lot, worrying that his friend would have to leave him, sitting up a little. Toothless immediately reacted and gently rubbed his friend's cheek with his snout.

"Queen is like, King. Big. Strong. But that Queen holds scale-wings to her, not let leave nest. Fight two-leg for food, to feed her." The bigger Night One rumbled, anger and upset in his every noise. Small-Claw scrunched in closer and made soft comforting croons to him, saying nothing with a knotted brow.

"Queen take Tooth-less from other Night-Ones. Queen take other scale-wing from other nest." Toothless' eyes were staring off, far into the distance, as if he were somewhere else. He did not like this, and gave him a harder nudge, pushing their snouts together with a whine.

"How you free?" Small-Claw asked with a non-accusatory rumble, leaning his head back and watching Toothless, his posture was tense and his body seemed as if it were about to spring and run.

"You… knock me down. Out of her reach, grasp. Did not let her take me back again." Toothless murmured, eyes moving over to his companion and wrapping a wing over him a little tighter, as if afraid he'd be taken if he didn't.

Now the smaller dragon was thinking harder, tilting his head to the side, and something rose up in his gut. The signature twist in his stomach that came from his mind running with an idea, that he didn't know would work out, but if he rebutted it, the idea would haunt him until he did something about it. Toothless seemed to catch on and reached a paw up to knock him out of it, Small-Claw shaking his head and smiling a gummy, awkward grin to him.

"Not like that look…" His friend hummed at him, worry and amusement sounding through to him.

"If… If Queen gone, or… stopped. Two-Legs safe?" Small-Claw questioned, tilting his head with a little smile.

Toothless' reaction was immediate, smacking his friend with his tail and growling at him.

"Why Small-Claw care? Small-Claw not two-leg now. Scale Wing." Toothless growled, shaking his head and huffing at him, pushing his chest out. Small-Claw dipped his head and frowned a little, grumbling, his shoulders slacking down and he let out a regretful warble.

"Better for both scale-wing and two-leg. Queen hurt both." Small-Claw said softly to him, leaning back in case of any further rebuttal and he sighed, leaning his head down. Toothless relented, grumbling at him and chuffing, relaxing himself.

"You say Two-Leg hurt you. Sire hunt you. Make you fight." Toothless growled out, almost angry at the idea of it all, baring his teeth at nobody in particular and lashing out at the air.

"Not know it Small-Claw. Think I eat him." Small-Claw muttered.

Toothless still seemed angry, even more so and smacked his tail around behind them with a low rumble, tugging Small-Claw into him, but the growl soon faded at the look his smaller friend had adopted and he sighed softly.

"You would help Two-Leg that hurt you, and save other Scale-Wing even if they hurt them?" Toothless remarked, tilting his head with a low croon and frowning. Compassion wasn't rare to scale-wings, but to this level, for even a Two-Leg, was impossible to him.

Small-Claw frowned, and lifted his head to Toothless. He thought about the countless times he'd helped others and put them first, even if it were reckless. Memories of early morning dragon raids, where he'd throw himself in front of someone in trouble, and have a dragon, or, in several instances, multiple chase him through the village screaming.
Someone dropping a barrel of fish down the hilly main street of Berk and standing in front of it and being rewarded with nothing but splinters, bruises and smack on the head from Gothi. Blurry memories of sticking up for smaller children and being targeted in return. Gobber dropping something he'd just fixed or made and having to fix it, delaying the order and he always put himself at the front, declaring it was his fault.

Maybe it was because of his tremendously low sense of self worth, or his desire to be cared for. He never knew, honestly. But this he did know; if he had a chance to stop what was going on with the vikings, and he stood by and did nothing? That makes him the problem in his mind.

"Not matter about me. This bigger than me." Small-Claw murmured, whining at Toothless and staring into his eyes, showing him that he really meant this, trying to show him that he wasn't just being crazy. They could help.

Toothless looked as if he was about to say something, but dropped it, shutting his maw and rumbling to him. Their eyes locked and he stared into the endless green depths, and only saw worry and care for him. Small-Claw let the smallest hint of a smile appear on his smooth onyx features. They held the stare for a while and every uncommunicable emotion they had was passed to one another, before Toothless nodded his head.

"Small-Claw has plan?" The other chuffed to him, nuzzling their snouts together for a moment before smiling at him. He curled his tail around the Toothless' and tugged gently, nodding.

"Only if Tooth-less is with Small-Claw." He rumbled, standing up and lowering himself a little, matching his friends head-height with a little chuff, his tail swaying behind him as excitement budded in his scaled chest. The other did not even respond, instead stood with him and bumped snouts again, bounding out of their cavern, and Small-Claw hurried quickly after him with a delighted call.

"So, what us do?" Toothless asked, perched on a rocky outcropping, looking over the nest.

"Follow!" Small-Claw crowed, barreling past him and off into the sky of the nest, lazily flapping himself over to the Two-Legged's nest cave, scrambling to an awkward stop by the entrance, Toothless coming to his side and frowning at him.

"This not Queen." Toothless, rumbled teasingly.

Small-Claw did not pay attention, looking around the cave a little, about to take a tentative step inside before the four-wing was there, appearing as if from nowhere and growling at them.

"What want, Night Ones?" The ruddy golden scale-wing huffed at them, tilting his owl-like head between them both suspectingly and baring his teeth a little, hiding the cave behind his body and wingspan. Toothless reacted a little too aggressively, pushing Small-Claw behind him with a wing and growling at the larger dragon with a shake of his head.

An airy laugh cut them off, and they all stopped. The four-wing turned, looking down and noting the woman was now under his wing. Small-Claw had never seen her face, but she looked rather normal for someone who lived with scale-wings.

Thin ginger eyebrows and wide, inquisitive green eyes stared amusedly at Toothless and then came around his wing, nudging it to one side before smiling at the smaller of them.

"If our Night Fury friends wish to say hello, you shouldn't be so rude, Cloudjumper." The woman two-leg spoke, smiling at the large dragon, who seemed a little embarrassed, shuffling his snout around and lowering his head with an apologetic croon to her. She dismissed it with a smile and a wave of her hand, stepping back and leaning into the scale-wings belly as it stood, framing her.

Small-Claw looked at her and smiled a gummy smile. She was out of her wooden scale-wing thing that she wore and was instead wearing a yellowed, old robe that seemed to have been patched back together more than made sense. She had long, waist-length ginger red hair with wisps of white in it. She had crows feet despite her wide smile and caring voice which made him curious. How could one worry if they lived here, in the safest, most wondrous nest thinkable?

"You're looking a fine sight better than when you first got here. You and your brother are getting healthier by the day." She cooed, turning around as Cloudjumper had wordlessly climbed the rockface above her cave, digging his claws into it and letting them pass as the two-leg invited them into her nest. Small-Claw nudged Toothless to come, and they both carefully entered.

It looked small from the outside, but inside it was almost as big as their own cavern beneath the Alpha. Basalt pillars lined the edges, and the two-legged seemed to have every last thing they could want. Cooking devices that he recognised but could not put a name to. Furs and an actual wooden bed for her to sleep in. And one wall that seemed to have been flattened by one of the scale-wings for her to put a map on. Paper lined it, zig zagged and rough charcoal lines drawing the world around him into life.

Small-Claw walked closer to it and tilted his head, rumbling at it and poking his snout around. He found their nest on the map, and then moved his head around. He poked at the islands of the Meridian of Misery, not able to recall their names and found the one he used to live on. He nudged his nose at Berk and then leaned back, looking around and then finding Helheim's Gate, where ships were sent and rarely came back.

Small-Claw noted that, from what he could remember, of all the islands nearby, Berk was the furthest from the nest distance wise, but a straight flight. The other islands in front of Berk were closer, but much less singled out from each other. A raiding party would have to fly through and then back past the other islands, risking catapult fire and arrows.

The woman was eyeing him, confusion in her gaze as she followed him, frowning at her.

"What on earth are you lookin' at, little one?" She asks, scritching along his jaw and chuckling a little, looking around the map with him.

This is where Small-Claw's plan got difficult. The nordic runes he knew how to write were fuzzy on the front of his mind. Being in her nest was making it clear to him that it was hard for him to recall the words of things he once knew so clearly. Everything started to go by short descriptors like everything else. He frowned, but pushed on past the thought. He had to communicate to her, had to show her or ask her, but lacked the means. Small-Claw had to do this, for everyone involved and he wouldn't stop at a language barrier and him being a Night One.

Thinking quickly, he looked around and found something to 'write' with, poking a single claw out into a small tub of ink nearby, most likely how she painted the map out, the thick yellowness clinging to his impromptu writing tool. He dragged his claw from himself, then drew a shaky, scratchy circle around the Queens Nest, then a line to home, wiggly and rough. He stepped back, leaning back on all four paws again and stared at her. The two-leg seemed deep in thought, her brow furrowed and the ghost of fear crossed her face, before she turned to him with a small confused smile.

"You came from there? Or you left Berk?" She tried.

He shook his head and chuffed, before trying hard to recall the runes he once could write and scribble into his notebooks. Each one faded before his attempt, slipping from his conscious mind as he tried harder and harder to think of something to do to show her short of taking her to the Queen's Nest, which the four-wing would definitely never allow. Shaking his head again, he looked up at the map, pointed to himself, then to the other Nest and growled at it.

This seemed to bring the general gist of what he wanted out a little better as she shook her head and smiled sadly to him.

"Sorry, little one. There's no way you'd be allowed to go, and what lives under that fog…" The two leg winced a little and rubbed just under his ear plates, scritching to the bottom of his jaw and sighing.

"Whatever it is, it's been making dragons fight vikings for generations. It's too strong for any but the King. And the Alpha protects his own, first." The woman surmised, leaning back and looking at the map before turning back to him and shaking her head.

"What does that other Island have to do with this?" She asked, the delicate lines of her brows once again turning upward in surprise. Whether she was shocked with of his 'drawing' or his desire to fight the Queen, Small-Claw didn't know.

He was a little amazed she listened to him instead of just taking it for the musings of another nestmate with a hankering for ink and scratches. But the look in her eyes whenever she spoke with her scale-wing protector spoke of a strange understanding. Something she'd cultivated in her time here, however long it must have been. Small-Claw sighed again, nibbling his gums around his tongue as he focused. He stood up on his hind legs again and gestured at the nest, then himself and Toothless, before jabbing his paw out at the Queens Nest on the map. If she didn't understand the why, she should at least get the what.

"You want to attack her? That, thing- with just the two of you?" The two-leg said, shaking her head and standing up. Small-Claw suddenly felt as if he was being scolded, and shuffled back, resting on his front paws again before ducking his head. The female frowned a little, before crouching in front of him.

"You can't. It'll kill you both. And as far as I've seen, you might be the last Night Fury's in the entire archipelago." She stood after rubbing the top of his nose, hands on her hips; but he noted that she wasn't dismissing them, instead looked deep in thought. Tooth-less warbled to Small-Claw inquiringly, asking what was going on. Turning, the smaller Night One purred a little before looking between him and the map.

"Maybe give her time to figure out." Small-Claw churred, deflated and he slumped a little, stepping over to his friend and stuffing himself against the other's chest, bumping into it and shutting his eyes. Toothless nodded mutely, licking the top of his head once and holding them there.

Small-Claw was deep in his own head now; the realisation that he'd been forgetting the simplest things as a two-leg- a viking had slipped him as the single week passed them in the nest. He knew what things did, but not their names. He couldn't remember the man he'd worked with in the forge much anymore, but the idea of him brought him comfort. He remembered his father, however, and that thought brought him fear - yet he clutched to it still like a babe in the cradle.
Piece by piece, he'd get it all back and then he'd be a viking again, and he'd…

This trail of thought proved to be depressing enough for his carer to take notice, smacking his ear fins against Small-Claw's head and tugging him from it. He simply sighed and stood up straighter, staring into Toothless' waiting eyes. Something clutched him, tugging him to keep looking into the pine ocean before him, and the soothing sight quickly brought his optimism back, sticking his tongue out with a growing smile, which his twin matched with a roll of his eyes.

"We go ask Alpha, now?" Tooth-less inquired, hesitantly through his gummy smile, the warble echoing through the female's nest. Small-Claw nodded, but turned to the two-leg and sent her a curious croon, tilting his head to the side and looking into her eyes. She was clasping something to her chest that had been latched around her neck, unseen beneath her clothing and he decided to leave her be, the moment sad and private.

The two of them bound out of the nest, headed to their Alpha, the short trip reinforcing each other's belief in the other. Small-Claw knew Toothless would follow him all the way to Hel and back if it came to it, and Toothless understood that no matter where they went, or what happened, Small-Claw would be by his side.