The crisp morning air pricked her skin. A pale dawn and morning dew were a more welcoming wake up call. Fena was not quick to rise, however, for a comfortable warmth spread across her back. She rolled over lazily, coming face to face with a small fire. There she lay, contently embracing what little heat the fire gave as her mind came to.

Stretching along the short grass as she wiped the sleep from her eyes she caught an odd sight behind her. A great rumblehorn sat ten feet back, picking away at half a carcass. A struggled pull and he lifted his head, torn hide hanging from his jaw as he stared at her briefly before giving a snort and returning to his breakfast. Cautiously Fena turned back to the fire and sat upright. She wasn't about to test a dragons patience with food involved.

She rummaged through her satchel, seeing if there was anything edible left inside. Harek seemed to have been fairly thorough, however, and only left the dried bundle of rosemary. A rustle from behind had her springing on her knees. Her knife held out defensively as Eret sauntered closer while adjusting the ties on his trousers. He blinked at her 'threatening' stance before moving to the other side of the fire with an amused grin.

"I'm sure you can handle yourself but you won't do much with that."

He was forced back before he could think twice. Hazel eyes held his in a cold stare as she hovered inches above his face, her blade pressed firmly and dangerously low.

"Care to wager?"

"Fair enough, point made. A cheap shot mind you, but an effective one."

She drew back to sit across the fire from him, stowing the knife in the bag. Eret couldn't wrap his mind around how she moved so quickly. The words had barely left his mouth and she seemed to have leapt over the fire to have him pinned.

"I left some food for you there, by the satchel, in case you weren't aware."

"I was not." True enough there was a small pile of cooked meat where the bag had been before. "Thank you."

"There should be better food in the hall, but I figured this would do until we get back. Not that it's a long trek-Oi!"

Skullcrusher glanced up at Eret as he attempted to stealthily, or so the dragon thought, steal some leftovers. Fena leaned far back to let the dragon do as he pleased, an arm was not worth risking for scraps.

"Greedy beast, you've had yours already!"

Skullcrusher snatched what he could and impishly bounded through the field, happily eating his spoils. Eret was at his wits end with the creature. It had been close to a year since he became the dragons new master-no, rider. There was a lot they both had to learn from each other, but Eret was sure the beast was more stubborn than he was.

Dousing the fire he dusted himself off and offered Fena his hand. She didn't reach for it. His face scrunched in mild irritation as she just stared.

"You still doubt me."

"It has been 20 years. The man I knew is not the one before me. Forgive me, but I'm still wrapping my head around you." She didn't accept the offered hand but examined it. The scrap of cloth wound around it was blotched with a dusty red of dried blood. Her fingers feathered over his palm and wrist. She turned it over, brushing the faint scars on his knuckles.

He still had a great many questions for her, on her experiences, her thoughts, and why he puzzled her so. He just couldn't think of exactly what he wanted to ask. But such questions could wait. They should start making their way back before Hiccup came looking for them, more-so out of curiosity as to where they went more than actual concern. So catching her by surprise he grabbed her hand and hoisted her to her feet, passing off the satchel as he started off towards the treeline.

"Glutton." He muttered.

The dragon sneered and swiped his tail from behind his rider, effectively knocking him to the ground. He chortled triumphantly as Eret regained his breath. The broad viking scowled back at the dragon, much like a parent disapproving a child's prank.

"Some powerful beast you are. Who steals food from a woman?"

Skullcrusher grumbled and pouted as he looked anywhere but Eret. He noticed the female a few feet back and cocked his head at her. Eret turned curiously to see what had gotten the beasts attention. Fena had not moved and just stared at the horizon, clutching the satchels strap tightly. He took notice of the distant and longing look on her face. Rising back to his feet he came to stand along-side her.

"There's really only one way off Berk. Their boats are more for fishing than travel."

His voice was low as to not startle her.

"I've raced the white-waters in a skiff."

"The waters stretch farther here. You wouldn't even make it to a neighbouring shore before you'd capsize."

She turned her attention past Eret, to the great dragon watching them in the distance. He looked like a pup, head tilted as he watched them, patiently waiting for sign to come over and join them. A sign she wouldn't give him. So there he stayed and sunk down onto his belly, resting his head on his forelegs.

"I'd take my chances with swimming before I'd fly on one of those."

"You might actually enjoy it."

"Doubtful."

"Come on."

He gently nudged her shoulder and off they went. It was clear to Fena that the dragon belonged to Eret. So she kept him in-between the beast and herself as a shield. It was less likely he'd attack her if Eret was present, she reasoned.

They walked in relative silence at the start, simply enjoying the crisp morning air beneath the forest canopy. Fena made the terrible mistake of inquiring about a thin white scar on his upper right arm. Eret dove right into an elaborate tale of his tussle with a thunderdrum some years back, how it nearly drowned his ship. With wild gestures he demonstrated how he wrestled it free from the underside of the hull. She managed to duck in time as his arms swung back violently in the excitement. She shook her head in amusement, knowing all too well the mischievous look in his brown eyes meant he was exaggerating most of it, but there had to be some truth to it then, so she let him continue his vibrant 'recount'.

Skullcrusher was further ahead, where a trail broke off to the left of the main path. If he had fur there would be no doubt it was standing on end. His eyes were trained hard on the branches above, a dangerous hiss resonating from his throat. But Eret saw nothing. Fena froze, eyes wide as she scanned the trees, but couldn't pinpoint a threat anywhere. A dragons warning was not something to ignore so they waited. For what, they didn't know.

Then they heard it.

A little ways further into the trees and above their heads, an unnatural hiss was returned. Like it was trying to mimic the dragon, and followed up with a few clacks of what could only be a birds beak. Fena's face morphed into a look that made Eret take a step back. Slowly she reached into the satchel, never looking away from the sounds origin. In one swift movement she threw the knife in the same direction and Skullcrusher charged after it. A heavy thunk was heard with a shrill screech and they watched it fall. A great raven. Far larger than any raven Eret had seen. Skullcrusher was upon it as soon as it hit the forest floor, tearing off its head, effectively silencing it. He looked back to his rider for approval as he forcefully tore off a wing.

Fena didn't look away as she reached behind her, searching for him. The back of her hand brushed his arm and she trailed down to shakily grasp his hand. She turned to face him, releasing a shuddered breath. Eret's dark eyes were wide, his brow knitted as he tried to process what he just witnessed. Skullcrusher ambled over to them, a few black fathers stuck to his chin and he dropped the knife at their feet. He sat himself down to clean his face, content with his 'victory'.

"Odin, forgive me." Fena's free hand twitched in-front of her chest anxiously, before she placed it over his heart. "You never had a heartbeat. I'd imagine you did but it was never there. I could never truly feel it, nor hear it." She breathed deeply as she felt the rhythmic thrumming of his heart. "Whenever the raven calls, you'd always vanish. Not this time. He won't take you." Their hands interlaced she looked about for any other spies before taking the left trail. She was gently tugged back to a halt, with her hand still wrapped in his he pointed straight ahead.

"That way."

His face was blank with a heavy weight behind his eyes. Fena wasn't sure if he was upset with her and her actions, or still process what just happened, or absorbing her words if he even comprehend them. She wasn't sure if even she understood. This man before her was a stranger, who only knew her from a distant past, and yet her mind was convinced she already knew him. She blinked up at him, nodding soberly at his directions. She stowed the knife once more and lead them forward down the path. Both she and the dragon were on alert. Any small noise or chirp caused her to lightly squeeze Eret's hand, ensuring he was still there. She did this several times as the walked. One particular clatter was loud enough to make her jump and almost collide with Eret behind her. She gripped his hand a little tighter than before. In turn he gave her hand a firm squeeze. She had lead him through the winding trees many times before, but the returned grip felt comforting, and slightly unnerving at the same time. A weight seemed to lift. Her spirit lighter. Taking a deep breath she steadied herself and continued on their path.

Berk was rising with the sun with many denizens already going about their usual business. Some took to dragon care, others dealt with the linen, a couple of young ladies were sat together working on their weavings while a small group of children ran about. The were approaching the outskirts of the main hub when Eret caught Valka preparing to take off, most likely to scout, and she gave him an odd look. Her brow quirked at the sight of their hands intertwined. Fena was admiring the pattern one of the young women was weaving and was not aware of the exchange. She was not letting go of his hand yet though so Eret just shrugged in response. Valka chuckled at him before climbing onto Cloudjumper's back and taking off to the east.

A dreadful splintering sound of a crash grabbed both their attentions. Fena let go of her anchor to cover her head on instinct. They watched as a wooden wheel rolled past them. There amidst the chaos stood the twins, holding their sides in laughter as they ducked from the scene. Two carts were tipped over, a mixture of hay and crushed vegetables were strewn about, the sheep were scattered and scampering away from a miffed shepherd. Tuffnut did a double take as their paths crossed.

"Did a terrible terror make a nest in your hair or something?"

Fena flushed as she felt the knotted mess that was her hair. Cringing Eret backtracked, while muttering something about needing to see Gothi and reached for the saddle of his dragon. He had one foot in the stirrup when he took off towards the healers hut.

"Ruffnut! Get my things. I need to fix this mess."

"That's a first."

Placing his decorated hands on Fena's shoulders, he guided her to their house just off the main square, having her sit on the leading steps. Ruffnut came out of the house with a small box filled with clasps and beads and trinkets, and a dragon-tooth comb. Fena anticipated painful pulls but found instead a gentle tugging as he worked through the knots. A blissful sigh left her lips as he worked.

"Tuff's really good with hair. All those tiny humans pester him during the holidays to fix their braids and such."

"What can I say, I'm the master of my craft. But I have never thought of using oils like this one. A combination of cedar and mint does not scream hair care to me."

Ruff was rummaging through the trinkets but Tuff swatted her hands away. She scowled at her brother, turning her attention to the polished metal disk she brought out with everything else. Examining herself in the reflection she picked the squash guts off her furs. Fena's hair rested about her shoulders and was smoothed out quickly. Tuff began separating small sections, taking a moment or two to decide on a look, since she didn't have much hair to work with.

"A woman named Ehrn taught me to make them, and how to use them."

"Was she some kind of beauty witch or something?" Ruff picked at her teeth.

"She owned a brothel. The patrons apparently preferred earthy tones as opposed to flowery scents."

Ruff sneered at the idea, visibly disgusted. Tuff just kept working, not truly hearing her as he was focused on his current task.

"I personally prefer the scent of lilies and apple spice but that's just me." He drawled as he wove a silver bead into the braid. "Maybe there's something you can mix for Ruff to help her smell less like a swamp."

"It adds to my lethality. Thank you very much. It takes a lot of hard work to hair this deadly and still keep its shine. I once debated adding bone shards to the ends to really weaponize the braids, but they kept stabbing me in my sleep." Ruff swung the ends of her braids about, like balls on a chain, to emphasize her point on weaponized hair. A few of the loose sheep ran past them as a zippleback gave chase. Tuff had finished his work. Two small braids weaving into one main more loose plait, with a few beads dotted about. Nothing too fancy, but something he was proud of. She was pleased with how it turned out, turning this way and that in the 'mirror'. Noting a few strand that fell neatly around her face, too short to stay put. Tuff had gathered his things and set them back in their rightful place.

"So you said you've talked with Loki, right?" Ruff plopped herself beside Fena on the steps. "Like really talked with him?"

"Just as you and I are right now, yes." Fena shifted slightly, more uncomfortable with how close the young woman sat next to her. "He came to me at Sygins request. I was wandering the snowy forest after the trading town was raided, and she forced him to come to my aid. I was only five at the time and he came as a wolf. He was impossibly huge and intimidating but when his sons came bounding around him, his look changed. He stayed with me through the night and guided me to small farmstead on the other side of the woods"

"Yea. Cool story. But what's he like? Does he appreciate how much hard work we put into our offerings or pranks? Because we've had this idea-"

Snotlouts weapon seemed to vaporize from nowhere, aimed at Fena's throat but no one was fazed. The twins looked mildly annoyed at the interruption more than anything. Fena was more accustomed to constant threats that this was almost expected. She was more surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

"Can I help you?" Her tone was even, bored almost.

"I'm on to you." He ground out. "You think you can just waltz in here, be all buddy-buddy and learn Berks secrets. Not while I'm around."

"Sheesh, someone's paranoid." Tuff poked at Snotlout's head, knocking off his helmet in the process.

"I am not paranoid!" He bit back. "But no one just shares their entire backstory with complete strangers. Not unless it's some ploy to befriend an enemy in order to learn their weaknesses."

"Or they just wanna make you squirm." Ruff snickered, earning her a cold glare from the shorter man.

"Which is it, moon maiden?" He pressed the axe a little firmer. "Why be so open with a tribe of dragon riders you don't even know?"

Her looked hardened under his scrutiny. She exhaled sharply through her nose. They way he said that name got under her skin, and she wasn't sure why.

"I have been so many places, lost so much, buried too many. What does it matter if I should hand you my bleeding heart or cast it in iron and toss it beneath the crushing sea."

Both held firm their gaze. One refusing to yield to another.

"It always matters." Snotlout huffed as he withdrew his axe. "You either give the enemy the secret to your defeat, or you leave yourself with nothing to lean on."

"When did you become so wise." Fishlegs saw the exchange from the steps of the mead hall and came to investigate. "By the way, Astrid wanted you guys in the arena like an hour ago. She wants to go over some of the stealth drills before we head out on our next raid."

The twins groaned in annoyance. So they lit the whole boat on fire once, why should they be punished for it with constant drills. Barf and Belch came racing over to them and scuttled behind their riders. A shrill and unpleasant voice bounced off the houses, all but Fena recognized it as Mildew. No doubt searching for the twins after they destroyed his cart and sent his sheep running all over the island.

"I guess we could head to the arena."

"If only to get Astrid off our butts."

And off they went with their dragon, but Snotlout got caught in-between to the two heads in their panic and they carried him along with them. Fishlegs looked apologetic as Fena got to her feet.

"I'm sorry about them. They're loud but relatively harmless. Berk is welcoming to all who need sanctuary or allies."

"No harm done, I take no offence. He had a point though. I would be skeptical of a stranger too if they shared too much personal information upon first meetings."

Relief washed over him.

"Actually I was hoping I could ask some more questions about the Pale Claw tribe. They should be remembered, even if we were never allied with them."

"Thank you."

Fishlegs placed a hand on her back as he gesture to the mead hall where they would talk. The hall was quiet and fairly empty as most were out working. Fena hummed happily as she bit into one of the sweet honey cakes. It's taste brought back nostalgic memories of harvest festivals she'd shared with others. Chief Ivar had a sweet tooth of his own, honey cakes in particular, so every harvest festival there was always a bounty of them. Varying in spices too, from apple spice to pumpkin to lavender and hickory nut. Her favourite one year was with a foreign and rare spice called 'cinnamon', those were almost addictive and she missed the rich intensity.

While she ate, Fishlegs filled her in on the day-to-day goings of Berk. He also showed her his vast collection of dragon cards, filled with stats off all classes and breeds. He spoke rather enthusiastically about a small few, his preferred favourites, with the Gronkle at the top of the list.

Fena shared all that she could and answered his questions to best of her ability. They were a sailing village. Placed along a far stretch of black beach, with small small stretches of rocky outcroppings and sand-bars splayed about like long fingers. Thus how the area got it's name of Dead-Hand. They had a large armada of naval vessels, ranging from canoes and knarrs to long-ships and massive ships with six masts. What made it ironic was that Chief Ivar hated the waters, at least any that he couldn't see the bottom of. The ground was heavy with clay, so farming was limited, they relied mostly on trade. The woodlands bordering the village was a bountiful hunting ground however.

Fena couldn't give an exact location off the top of her head, so Fishlegs brought over a few of the maps they had. She studied the images closely but it was clear she was struggling with it. After a few minutes of silence, she apologized. The maps themselves were not the issue, but the runes written on them. Because she had no teachings as she wandered, she knew only little of the runes they wrote. Chieftess Yrsa, Ivarr's wife, took on her education when she came to them, but she had only learned about a third of the runes. She could recognize them in writings but she could not fully decipher anything. The large viking beside her bit his tongue as to not offend, but his curiosity was piqued more now. Patiently he went over each map only to discover that Dead-Hand lay just passed the reach of their known neighbours. Having all he needed he offered Fena a tour of Berk, which she gladly accepted.

The midday sun cast a comfortable warmth to the air, making it a perfect day to roam the village. Fishlegs was an excellent and informative guide. Giving a brief history to each building they passed. She learned that the forge now makes custom saddles for dragons and uses a special metal in the crafting called 'Gronkle-iron". He pointed out the chief's house and a few homes by name. Making note of the varying dragon-proofing features. Those features, however, really only helped with fire-breathers not ice-spitters. They came across the large glacial hunk of dragon ice that was slowly being chipped away. It melted on it's own but slower than normal ice, Valka informed them that the dragon ice was stronger than regular ice and even intense heat would not make it melt faster. But it was rich in minerals that were made useful in poultices and tonics. So they chipped away at it and stored it in the ice-houses.

Berkians were highly skilled craftsman it seemed. A massive winding totem towered beside them, with branches sticking out of a spiral rut. It jerked slightly as the sound of crunching gears came from below it, the branches were supposed to move around the pole in a similar idea to a pulley. A perch for dragons, she'd been told, but it was Hiccups' design so the men working on it were struggling to figure it out accordingly to make it run smoothly.

Lastly they approached to arena. Refurbished to run training exercises, one of which was in progress. An old ship was placed inside, so the warriors could practice their landings and maneuvers and tactics for particular marine raids. Astrid lead these exercises, being Berks general, and she lead them well. A chorus of moans echoed her call to run it again. Toothless playfully pounced about the bleachers, swatting lightly as the baby Gronkle would poke his head out in random spots. Hiccup stood before the bleachers, not participating in the drill today but dealing with a rather unkempt and sour looking man, Mildew was his name. Mildew left in a huff but didn't argue further.

"Hello chief."

"Yup, still sounds strange." Hiccup shuddered at Fishlegs address. "Hey, Fena. So you decided to stick around. Astrid said you reminded her of Heather and thought you might vanish with the dawn."

The tiny Gronkle excitedly bounded over to Fishlegs, who happily nuzzled the creature in return. Toothless slowly inched closer to Fena and sniffed at her. She didn't move but warily side-eyed the nightfury, flinched as he nosed her hand. Realizing she still was timid he let her be and sat himself on the top bleacher to watch the others in the arena.

"I was told that dragons are the only way off the island."

"True. Most of our boats were destroyed during the fight at the nest. The few we have are meant more for the shallower waters and fishing grounds."

Not the answer she was looking for. She breathed deeply, turning her attention to the commotion in the arena. Watching dragon and viking run about the deck of the old vessel, albeit a bit chaotic. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Eret. Hauling a a block of dragon ice to the ice-house. She also caught sight of something rather peculiar. A small group of children seemed to be stalking him, ducking behind building and barrels from time to time. The grin on his face meant he knew they were there, but acted as if nothing was amiss. She chuckled at what came next. The children sprang upon him. Grappling his legs and waist, one leapt from a hay stack and latched onto his shoulders. Giddy shrieks and playful giggles sounded as he 'fell' and they pinned him down, trapping the trapper. All but one little girl scampered away when Skullcrusher came to the rescue. The young girl scratched the dragons chin as Eret righted himself and went back to his task. The child following beside him, chatting happily away.

She watched them pass out of sight as she contemplated her options. She faced the young chief, her decision made.

"Is your healer still looking for an apprentice?"