"Please," Wanderer begged with his nose low to the ground, then slapped the young Spine-Tail next to him with his wing to do the same.

The female Spine-Tail he was addressing chittered thoughtfully, then walked up to scent the fledgling. Wanderer watched with bated breath, then quietly exhaled as she apparently deemed him acceptable and licked over his head and quills, marking him with her scent.

Wanderer crept back and dropped soundlessly from the ledge, leaving them to get to know each other more closely. The fledgling was quite a way behind in learning many things, but the female who had just adopted him was only watching two fledglings of her own so would have more time to spend on him.

It was tricky to find suitable candidates for adoption. If a dam still had a full clutch of her own, she would be too tired or busy to want to adopt another or would spread her time too thin between them all. On another wind, there was always the question of why a dam might have fewer fledglings to watch.

But that was over with now, at least for the Spine-Tails; there was no longer a rowdy group of them romping around the nest. Really, once the Long-Paw nest-kin had taken their own fledglings back, it had been too small to cause much trouble anyway – or to defend itself with numbers – but the roughly two clutches or so had taken time.

Interestingly, there was still a significant group of Stone-Scales, enough that they didn't need immediate protection. Wanderer presumed once their population exceeded what could be supported by the trickle of molten rock rising from below, they had started finding other homes. There was also that Stone-Scales were much more lax in picking mates, and thus those fledglings weren't in such desperate need of a dam to nurture and teach them.

Wrrr, on any wind, his eyes were narrowed on them now. He just hoped he could find enough families for them.

But right now, he wanted to enjoy what he had accomplished before starting on another big task. Once he started whittling down the numbers of the errant group, removing their safety of numbers, he wouldn't be able to stop.

He was a little tempted to nip outside to lick the tangy rocks rising out of the sea, as he was a bit parched and the taste appealed to him at the moment, but a certain Fire-Scale lounging below was more than enough reminder of why he didn't dare.

Wanderer smirked, recalling his revenge for the injury he had received. Many nest-kin had not only retained the urge to bring food for the queen, but also adjusted their thinking to apply it to this alpha instead. It explained how he could support the many female Fire-Scales and fledglings, most of who were with him on the tallest plateau at the bottom of the nest.

Or, more accurately, had supported. Not every nest-kin bringing food could be convinced out of it, but Wanderer had seen to a considerable drop in supply. It was perfect timing, as the fledglings would be taken hunting soon, but not quite yet, so these females would remember the alpha's failure to provide without it affecting the young too much.

And they would probably then move away, like most other Fire-Scales had already. Wanderer supposed that was because they were more territorial, so having more space to claim would be appealing to them.

However, the sight of all the females around the alpha, many only a pawful of season-cycles old, filled Wanderer with rage; he had a pretty good guess as to what had happened to the males of their generations. He turned his head up instead and beat his wings to rise more rapidly through the nest.

Rrrr, he needed to burn some fire. He alighted on his ledge and stalked towards the others, noting Dreamer tangled up with Storm-Fly's fledglings – none of them could provide the challenge he needed right now anyway.

He wanted to play with Alpha-Tail, but annoyingly he wasn't present. There was the Two-Head, who was too tricky for his liking, or Fish-Legs' Rock-Scale, who was slow and boring, or the rock-head's Fire-Scale, who Wanderer might enjoy fighting a little too much but not for good reasons.

Storm-Fly squawked enquiry at him, which he responded to with a growl and lash of his tail. She turned to chitter at her older daughter – of course! Storm-Fly had a daughter to watch her fledglings for a moment! And it was not as if they were going anywhere.

She was barely given a chance to beckon with a playful growl before Wanderer leapt at her, claws and teeth aimed for her soft chest, but a wing casually batted him away. Yes, yes, yes! He rolled to his paws and charged again, ducking the wing to briefly sink his teeth into her leg before darting under and behind her. She barked in surprise, then crouched aggressively with a hiss and flung a pawful of spines from her tail that landed between his paws as he ran.

He had to abort his next charge, blocked by a stream of fire, and sprinted around her instead. She hopped in place, almost managing to keep up with him – but not quite. He got around behind her to grapple her tail, doing so from an angle to flatten the spines instead of impale himself on them, and clamped his jaws down around it. Not something he would do in a normal fight, but he was only having fun.

Storm-Fly lifted him from the ground and swung him off, two of her spines remaining in his teeth as he slid off her; that had been a weird sensation. They clattered to the ground as he tossed them aside, and then he was on the offensive again.

She wasn't letting him win, as she sometimes did, but adjusted her strength and speed so that she was just outfighting him. She fended him off until he got through her guard to scratch at her chest, then kicked him away and chased after him.

Taking inspiration from Dreamer, he feinted to the side before spinning entirely, and she squawked in surprise again as he darted between her legs and got behind her. Digging his paws in to lunge at her again, he-

He reacted to something bowling into his side, reflexively snarling and grappling the attacker with teeth and claws – then froze in horror at the black scales he had latched onto.

Then squeaked in surprise as Dreamer clamped jaws over his neck and wrested him off, then got paws around his torso and forced him to the ground and into a pin.

Wanderer lay there, staring wide-eyed at the ground pressed to his nose. What had just happened?

Dreamer released him and placed a paw on his shoulder with a triumphant bark, then hurriedly backed off and scampered in front of him. "I not hurt you?" he asked worriedly, crouched low with wide eyes. "You playing with Storm-Fly, I not see where going, not think about your back-hurt, I sorry!" He hopped forward and licked at the scar down Wanderer's back, now just a dull ache and mild tightness.

But Wanderer didn't care about that. "You fought!" he shouted as he leapt to his paws, spinning into a playful stance with his hindquarters in the air and his whole face pulled into a huge smile. "You can fight me!"

"I getting better," Dreamer mumbled, abashedly pawing at the ground.

"You fought!" Wanderer repeated, bouncing high into the air around and over Dreamer in his elation, then tackled him to the ground to hold him close with loud purrs and ferocious nuzzling.

Dreamer squirmed, playfully and dramatically trying to pull himself free. "Grah! Storm-Fly! Help!" But she just clucked in amusement and went back to her fledglings. He then roared in mock-panic as Wanderer enthusiastically licked over his head and neck. Eventually he squirmed his way free, then cleaned his now somewhat damp face.

"We fight?" Wanderer growled playfully, flipping upright and kneading the ground in anticipation.

"Hrr, maybe later," Dreamer replied, deflating Wanderer's enthusiasm, as he walked to the edge to look down the nest. "This what I wanted tell you, I think something happening."

Dreamer beckoned Wanderer to the edge, then stared down into the nest. He wasn't totally familiar with it all yet, but he was pretty certain something was going on. Nest-kin were corralling their fledglings up the nest, onto the upper ledges where they warily kept watch, but the chatter coming from below had an edge of excitement to it.

Wanderer trotted up next to him to look around, then glanced back over the ledge with a bark and a gesture down the nest. Stormfly warbled back curiously and took to the air, and the other Berkian dragons were apparently interested enough to follow; the fledglings were warned to stay behind, being old enough to be left alone for a short time.

Pulling up just behind Wanderer, who flew slightly ahead of Stormfly, Dreamer chirped curiously at him, but his friend only replied with a confused croon; he didn't know what was happening either. What could get the attention of so many dragons at once like this?

They swooped through a fissure and emerged into open air, above the perpetual fog that surrounded the island. The first thing Dreamer noticed was that, despite the excitement and flurry of activity, there were no other dragons in the air. Even some of the Berkian Nadders fell back and clung to the mountainside with all the other dragons, who were all looking down…

There was a small green light, visible through the haze, too constant to be dragon fire. Something had been set on fire. Wanderer barked in recognition at almost the same time Dreamer realised himself, and started descending warily. Dreamer took a moment to call out to the Nadders that had pulled away before catching up.

A fire could only mean one thing, which was quickly confirmed by the big boat pulled ashore sporting the Berk crest on the sail flapping loosely in the wind. Figures on the rock beach were soon visible after that, maybe a dozen of them, crowded around the fire. All of a sudden the scene was very familiar, the atmosphere of the dragons humming excitedly but warily and mostly staying out of sight.

Wanderer led them down a short distance away, just far enough the figures could not be identified by their murky silhouettes, but so many dragons landing all at once was not exactly subtle. The figures instantly rose and began approaching.

How did Dreamer feel about this? He wasn't sure, hadn't been given enough time to think about it. He just watched the figures impassively as they spread out, features gradually moving into focus.

His sire was the first he truly recognised, by stature alone. That helped, a bit, warming Dreamer's heart with the fact that he'd come. The teens were soon simple to distinguish as well, Fishlegs' round figure, Snotlout's short stature, the twins appearing identical next to each other, and…

The other dragons walked forward, towards their riders.

"Barf!" "Hey Belch." "Oh I'm so happy to see you!" "Yeah, it's good to see you too."

"There's my Meatlug! Ohhh I missed you so much girl, have you been eating enough? Getting enough rest?"

"Hooky, big guy, don't go running off on me like that! Ow! Yeah yeah, alright, I missed you too, ya big lug…"

The adults were less vocal in their reunion, but Dreamer could just about make out Spitelout smiling warmly as he stroked Kingstail's head, and Hork leaning over the male Gronckle to hug his neck.

Two were without dragons. Stoick, as he had none of his own, and Astrid.

Dreamer cocked his head and glanced around, finding Stormfly standing behind him and Wanderer. He quietly chirped enquiry at her, and her gaze snapped down to look at him. She seemed conflicted. "You want go to her?" he asked.

Stormfly hummed, then went back to staring warily at Astrid. Dreamer understood entirely. Astrid was not one to lash out or hurt dragons, and the guilt of what she was doing at the time was clearly heavy on her… but she had still gone through with it.

But perhaps, he wasn't being entirely fair. She held no small amount of blame, but he couldn't expect everyone to stand against the entire village; Astrid certainly was not one to do that.

He sighed and glanced across at Wanderer, who was watching him curiously. Dreamer twitched his head promptingly, wanting to hear his thoughts.

Wanderer hummed and looked back to Stormfly. "Rock-Scale fledglings still need dams. I not want leave yet. But we not can stay with no protection."

So, it depended on Stormfly, and Dreamer had a strange sense she was relying on the Nightstrikers to make a decision.

He put that aside for the moment, ignoring Astrid to pad over to his father.

Stoick smiled warmly as he approached, and lowered to his knees. "Hello –" his eyes furtively flicked to Dreamer's flank, "– Hiccup. Still growing, I see. It's good to see you're well."

Dreamer's ears perked, but then he realised he had grown a bit in the last month or so, now that he was comparing himself to something more familiar…

A polite croon announced Wanderer coming up beside him, and Stoick smiled warmly at him as well; that too, gave Dreamer a warm feeling.

"Toothy, good to see you too," he said sincerely. "I-… I'm so sorry… I want to promise we'll do better… but we've failed you so much already. You are most welcome to, but I will not ask you to come back with us." Something dark and malevolent entered his expression, a deep frustration. "Not after what we've done." He reached out to put a hand to the Nightstrikers' jaws.

Dreamer purred and nuzzled the hand; Stoick understood more than Dreamer had ever thought him capable of. His reservations on returning to Berk were melting away, he was still wary of danger but it was really no more dangerous than where he was now. He just needed to be mindful of how valuable he was, as uplifting and bitter as that thought was.

"Hey," Wanderer nudged him excitedly and gestured off to the side. "I have thinking." As he started explaining, Dreamer swatted at him, but Wanderer insisted he was serious. "You need see he not can hurt you now."

This felt wrong… but if the last few months had made anything clear, it was that Dreamer really needed to be able to fight when he needed to, and not just when his mind let him. He had been lucky that, so far, when Wanderer had been in true danger it had not immediately had more dire consequences.

Fine. He strode over to Hookfang, getting his attention with a short bark, then warbled reassuringly. Hookfang turned, stared for a moment before scenting him, then huffed warm air over him. It wasn't part of what Wanderer had suggested, but it would have been rude not to.

He turned to calmly walk up to Snotlout, putting his back to Hookfang.

"Hey, uh, Hiccup!" Snotlout said cheerily. "No hard feelings, right? You know good old Snotlout didn't have anything to do with that. I wouldn't have given you over. Hey, why don't you come back with me and I'll show you what a real dragon rider can do?"

…Wow, really? Dreamer glanced back at Hookfang in amusement, who couldn't possibly have known what had been said but still looked embarrassed to as much as know Snotlout right now.

Dreamer shook his head, then mustered all his confidence, fighting off the rotten, stupid instincts… and raised a paw to – while being mindful of his very short but once again sharp claws – push Snotlout's shoulder.

He'd pulled his strike again, like with the Nadder fledgling, but Snotlout still staggered back on the loose stones. "Wha-? Hey, what was that for?" Dreamer hit him again, a little harder. "Quit it!"

Dreamer's nose twitched in agitation; he needed to fight Snotlout, not just push him around. He shoved hard enough that Snotlout tripped and fell over backwards.

"That's it!"

Pushing down the nervous rolling in his stomach, Dreamer stared at him intently. He needed to do this, wanted to do this… but above all else, he could do-

The anger in Snotlout's expression was unmistakable, his brow lowered, arms and jaw tensed, and upper lip pulled towards his nose. A look Dreamer had seen a thousand times before, a look he had always known to flee from, though it rarely made a difference, a look that always brought pain, and suffering, and bruises, and cuts, and a broken arm, and trips to Gothi, and condescending looks, and the scorn of his father, and the pain didn't stop, he wanted it to stop, make it STOP-!

Something impacted with the side of his neck, and… that was it. Dreamer cracked open an eye to see Snotlout, with his arm still raised from his punch, staring at him in confusion. Probably because he was cowering, half-hidden under a wing and flinching back from this… this…

This tiny human. Dreamer straightened and looked down on Snotlout. Down on him, as Dreamer was a full paw taller now, to say nothing of the rest of his body.

"What the Hel are you doing?" Snotlout exclaimed, his expression now incredulous and annoyed.

Dreamer gestured to his neck, then Snotlout's arm, then pushed him again. The reaction was much quicker, another punch swiftly delivered to his chest. Dreamer barely felt it.

What he did feel was something like an entire mountain of self-doubt, self-loathing, and other horrible feelings all crumble away. Wanderer was right, he had needed this, even if it didn't quite go the way either of them expected.

He sat on his haunches and laughed as he batted Snotlout's helmeted head, then knocked aside the retaliation and tripped him over. You're open everywhere! Snotlout raised his hands to defend his head, so Dreamer hit him in the stomach with the back of his paw, then knocked him on the head again.

"Stop it!" came a frantic cry, and Dreamer relented. Not that Snotlout had when implored the same thing, but Dreamer wasn't going to be like him. Instead, he purred and touched his snout to Snotlout's cheek, then turned tail on him.

Unsurprisingly, he had everyone's attention.

"Uhh, mind filling us in on what just happened?" Ruffnut asked flatly.

Tuffnut was beaming. "Isn't it obvious!? He just took Snotlout's place in the pack! Oh man that was glorious!"

Dreamer paused, now understanding what he'd just done, then glanced back at Snotlout with a chuckle; I eat before you now.

He was distracted by Wanderer bounding up and ecstatically prancing around him, crooning and purring in delight. "Yes, I fight you later," Dreamer drawled, swatting at his friend.

There was something about this moment. Behind him, Hookfang playfully nudged Snotlout until the boy grabbed him by the horns and forced his head to the ground, from where he hissed contentedly. Stoick was staring at the Nightstrikers, a little confused but happy and pleased to see them, even proud for some reason. Fishlegs was back to doting over Meatlug, who smiled widely up at him with her whole body wagging. The twins were arguing, right next to Barf and Belch who were snapping and growling at each other.

There was nothing of this atmosphere in the warm-nest. Stormfly looked out for them and cared for them, but compared to this it felt lacklustre. The fledglings played with them, but lacked some sort of spark that the Vikings brought with them.

Long-Paws were fickle and complex, but that made their respect all the more heart-warming. It also reminded him of his quest to break down the human-dragon barriers everywhere, and though his original plan was grounded, he was not going to give up on it, and this nest brought with it no opportunities as Berk did.

But, Wanderer did have a point that the Gronckle fledglings still needed proper homes… He wondered if they could be brought to Berk – then remembered that three of the dragons here already had fledglings, who were most certainly not staying here at the nest while their dams flew off again. Although they didn't know it yet, Berk was about to adopt enough young dragons as it was.

Wrrr, four of those depended on Stormfly.

And that, as far as Dreamer's intuition told him, entirely depended on how the Nightstrikers saw Astrid right now; Stormfly wasn't about to go flying with someone they saw as a threat to themselves.

Dreamer took a deep breath, then walked towards her, fixing her with a level gaze. Somehow, after dealing with Snotlout, he knew exactly what to do.

Astrid was trying to convince Stormfly to come closer, using a kind tone and an outstretched hand, but the Nadder just put her snout to the hand and withdrew. Astrid was taking another gentle step forward when Dreamer got her attention with a grunt.

Her expression lifted a little as she spotted him, but then her eyes widened as he growled. "I really am sorry!" she pleaded. "I had to, but Stoick's fixed all that now, it won't happen-!" She started walking backwards as Dreamer snarled increasingly loudly, drowning her out.

He wasn't interested in her excuses, only wanting one thing from her. They had trusted her, and she had taken their lives in her hands and done something terrible with them. It was only fair she accept him holding her life in return.

Therefore, when her hand went to her axe, he went silent and still, staring at it with no small measure of disappointment.

It was only a moment before she looked at the weapon as if it would come to life and bite her, and she hastily tossed it aside, but it was already done. Dreamer sighed and turned away, dismissing her with a flick of his tail.

Had this really been the woman of his dreams? How shallow he had been.

Stormfly, seeing his reaction, let out something between a squawk and a hiss, crouching a little and flaring her wings. That got Kingstail's attention, who hopped over to her, ignoring Spitelout calling after him.

"I want rest," Dreamer mumbled to Stormfly, and she chittered agreeably at him. "Wanderer," he called over to the other Nightstriker.

Wanderer was talking to one of the Nadders, the other female. He beckoned to her, and to Meatlug, as he trotted over to Dreamer. "They need get fledglings," he explained at Dreamer's enquiring glance.

Of course, no way Fishlegs would let Meatlug leave without her fledglings once he met them, and hopefully the same would go for the other Nadder and whoever was paired with her. Dreamer nodded approvingly, then glanced back over the Vikings.

Stoick was watching him sadly, and Dreamer briefly met his gaze. He understood, but it was still painful for him; he had been trying his hardest to do right by the Nightstrikers, probably trying to make up for how he had treated his son in the only way he could, only to fail at that too. Dreamer nodded significantly at him, and his expression at least softened a bit.

Astrid was arguing with Tuffnut. Well, at Tuffnut, who was giving her such a cold shoulder he was at risk of frostbite. Dreamer had no worry he would explain, he knew it was something she had to learn and understand herself. That was the only way they could be certain she was sincere.

But he felt a pang of sadness looking over the other riders with their dragons; aside from Spitelout, who just looked as if he didn't know what to do with himself. They all looked so happy to be reunited, enjoying the company. They all trusted their Long-Paws… Dreamer just wished he could trust them too.

Wanderer nuzzled his neck and he leaned into the gesture, then picked up his drooping wings and tail. "Come get fledglings," he reminded the females, then leapt into the air. The six of them ducked into a nearby crevasse and rode the warm air up to their ledge, to where the fledglings were sleeping and playing.

He let Wanderer sort them out, trudging to his little spot on the ledge to wearily flop onto his side.

Why did it feel like the whole world was weighing on his back?

Wanderer gave an impressed and satisfied huff, staring up into the nest, as Dreamer removed his paw from his chin and teeth from his throat, and they both dropped to all fours. Wanderer took to stretching and licked some of the deeper scratches he'd taken, a little miffed he'd been too slow to react to that last feint.

But, despite achieving his very first true victory against Wanderer, Dreamer just lay down to lay his head on his paws with a despondent sigh. He had never behaved normally when fighting was involved, but this was out of character even for him. Wanderer nudged his cheek with a worried croon.

Dreamer replied with a mild growl, a familiar noise Wanderer understood to mean that he didn't really know himself.

"This about not-your-female?" Wanderer asked with a cheeky lilt.

Big green eyes turned to briefly glare at him, then lowered to the ground. "I thought… she…"

Wanderer crooned understandingly and nuzzled him. He had trusted the fledgling-alpha too, trust she had betrayed. She had obviously not wanted to, and still regretted it now, but that hadn't stopped her.

After a short rest, Wanderer nudged his Dreamer. "Come, help me find Rock-Scale dams?"

"Hrrr, you go. I help next light."

Wanderer licked him over the forehead and then barked at Storm-Fly to alert her to his intent, then hopped into the air and ascended to the top ledges. He couldn't blame Dreamer for not wanting to participate, it was a boring task, but more than that he had to focus on it for there to be any point in trying. He had to find a Rock-Scale who had some but not too many other fledglings, and who appeared to at least be paying attention to them.

It wasn't long before his own mind started drifting, however. Dreamer's demeanour was similar to a time he had not eaten for a pawful of lights, and barely anything for many lights after that. He hadn't sunk nearly that far this time, but he moved in the same way, as if his own scales were weighing him down.

Wanderer's gaze drifted over to his own ledge where Dreamer was being harassed by energetic Spine-Tail fledglings, lazily swatting at them as they taunted him. Wanderer chuckled as he managed to grab one of the fledglings and pull them to the ground, holding them tightly while they struggled in his grip.

He shook his head and returned to his task, focusing on picking out the Rock-Scales from the actual rocks around them.

A quick scan of the nest turned up three more promising dams, one of which he passed over at a closer look but the other two taking a fledgling each. As he found each potential dam he would alight somewhere nearby and observe for a little while, then if he deemed her suitable he would find the fledglings and coax one away, convince them to follow him, then take them to the dam and hope for the best.

Things rarely didn't go well, just once with the Spine-Tails but only because the dam had flown off while he'd been convincing the fledgling to come to her. It had been easier when he could just pick them up and take them…

It all took time, particularly the searching and observing, but two fledglings wasn't a bad strike for one light. There were still pawfuls to go, and he had nagging doubts there even were enough dams in the nest to take them all, but he would just keep scratching at it and eventually he'd break through.

He felt the alpha's eyes on him as he ascended from the bottom of the nest, pointedly refusing to look back. The alpha had not attacked them in the nest, not with Storm-Fly and Alpha-Tail protecting them, but Wanderer wasn't about to go giving him a reason to. It might only take a perceived taunt or challenge to provoke him.

The rising air helped him back up to his ledge, where his frills perked in warm amusement at his Dreamer, snuggled into a pile of Spine-Tail fledglings. The way they were arranged suggested they'd all got worn out while playing and just collapsed in a big heap, and then Dreamer had then apparently nuzzled his way under the quills of one of the females.

It was good that Dreamer had some other fledglings to play with, most likely something that had significantly contributed to his waning reticence to fight. And Wanderer doubted he would forget about the Long-Paw nest, particularly as Nightstrikers were instinctually pulled to remain with – or in this case, return to – the nest they most felt at home in.

Which was a strange feeling for Wanderer. He had lived in this warm-nest for around eight season-cycles, but it didn't feel like his home. The Long-Paw nest was fun and interesting, but held its own dangers which were difficult to look past when he just didn't understand enough of it to be comfortable, at least not without Dreamer guiding him.

He had been not too far from flying his first nest when it had been attacked and he'd been forced to flee. Thinking back, he now recognised that his blood-kin were starting to smell a bit stifling… It also explained why Sire kept throwing him in the lake. Wanderer grumbled and ruffled his wings as he alighted on the rock and trotted up to his kin.

…Would Dreamer start to smell wrong to him too?

He scented a dark paw stretched out from the pile, where the scents were strongest, careful not to disturb the sleeping fledglings. Under all the fledglings he'd been playing with, the exertion, the faint scents of the tall, tangy rocks outside the nest… there was nothing.

Wrrr, not nothing, but nothing to his instincts. He was simply scenting himself. That alleviated his worry.

With a wide yawn, he gently worked his way into a nook next to his Dreamer and drifted off with a purr.

Fast! On the ground Dreamer was unquestionably faster, but up here in the air he was no competition whatsoever.

He was having to bank so sharply away from Wanderer's every attack that it felt his wings were being pulled from their sockets, but he always seemed to be flying in the wrong direction to do anything about it. He growled in frustration and swerved after Wanderer again, but found himself flying in a small circle trying to keep up with him, and then fleeing again as Wanderer swooped under and behind him to pick up the chase again. Whatever he did he could not prevent another light scratch down his wing, right with the others.

Yeah, he was done for today. He barked wearily and banked back to the mouth of the nest, where Storm-Fly perched to keep an eye on them and her fledglings swooping around below. She chirped happily at him as he alighted carefully on the jagged rim, then licked over his face and down his neck.

Grumbling quietly, he cleaned his face off. "Why she do that?" he asked Wanderer as he alighted next to him.

"She mark us," he said, as if this were the most obvious fact on Midgard. "Other nest-kin know we Storm-Fly's kin. Like Alpha-Tail mark her, other nest-kin know he mate with her this cooling season."

"That obvious, they do that anyway," Dreamer mumbled quietly.

Wanderer chirped in confusion. "What they do?"

"They…" Dreamer awkwardly shuffled his paws and wings; the word itself was embarrassing enough, let alone its definition. "They mate already." He waved to indicate a pawful of times.

Big green eyes stared at him for several moments. Then Wanderer started laughing, tail thrashing behind him. "Nest-kin only mate in cooling-season," he chuckled once the initial amusement had worn off and Dreamer had swatted him a few times. "He only marking her, wrrr, give her his scent."

"Grrr I not know that," Dreamer grumbled, slapping his friend with a wing, then squeaked in surprise as Wanderer pounced him. Dreamer tumbled onto his side, automatically flexing so that he wasn't laying on his wing, and scrabbled at the air with all four paws to keep his attacker back. Wanderer just grabbed one in his teeth, then ignored the teeth in his ear to chew it merrily.

They play-fought and rested while the day wore on. Stormfly joined her fledglings in the air for a while, then took them all for a quick flight to the drinking pool late in the afternoon.

Dreamer looped in the air as it came into sight, but flared his wings to slow at a bark of warning, danger. A quick glance around showed they were alone in the air, but Storm-Fly was cautiously watching something on the horizon while keeping an eye on her fledglings, who watched the same place with avid curiosity.

Following their gaze, Dreamer spotted ships on the water; hrrr, he was getting complacent with someone else looking out for him. They were angled partially to the side, just enough that he couldn't make out the crest on the sails, but it didn't really matter as they were hours away.

Not for a dragon. Storm-Fly's male fledgling suddenly flapped forward, but was quickly snatched from the air by long talons and taken down to the island. The Nightstrikers and other fledglings followed, playfully jeering at the male before slaking their thirst.

As they returned to the nest, Dreamer wondered why they never used the sea stacks in the fog. Wanderer had told him they were wet and apparently tasted good, like the iron apparatus that had corrected his tail fins, but she never led them down there. Wrrr, then again, perhaps descending into the gloomy fog wasn't a good idea with the alpha after them. Still, he was curious.

He trotted to a halt on the ledge, then swung his tail around to his face. He knew what a Nightstriker tail was supposed to look like, Hel, he'd practically built one, so the little imperfections in the fingers were very obvious to him.

A series of horrific memories flashed through his head, and he leaned into the fins to cover his face with them. Those memories felt distant and vague, like an elusive nightmare upon waking, but held themselves firmly to him with insidious roots that occasionally crept into his thinking; the sound of feathers cutting through the air still made him jumpy, though there at least weren't any birds around this island.

After giving himself a firm shake, he glanced around for Wanderer. "We help fledglings?" he chirped at him, hoping for a distraction.

Wanderer stared at him for a few moments, looking weary, but then gave himself a quick shake. "Yes, we do. But fast, almost night."

"Yes," Dreamer replied with an agreeable croon, then barked at Storm-Fly and jumped into the air after him. Just something to distract him for a little while before they slept.

As usual, they started at the top of the nest and began making their way down, watching for any Rock-Scales with some fledglings but not too many. At least they were fairly easy to tell male from female at a glance; the males looked much gruffer, while Spine-Tails were less obvious without scenting them.

It wasn't long before Wanderer barked for Dreamer's attention and veered over to a ledge, dropping onto it and trotting into a group of Rock-Scales. He wouldn't be long, talking and playing with the dam and fledglings directly, so Dreamer circled around looking more closely at the nearby ledges. He spotted a potential target, though the ledge was a bit crowded, and swooped up to the wall nearby to cling to it, wings flapping awkwardly to hold him in place while he got a grip on the rock.

From there he had a good view of the ledge and the Rock-Scale family on it, sharing the space with some Spine-Tails, Two-Heads, and a Fire-Scale. It reminded him of the little gang on Berk… though he couldn't say he missed playing with Barf and Belch all that much; the way the two heads moved when they played, when they'd shown interest since moving to the warm-nest, weirded him out.

He gave his head a little shake and observed the Rock-Scale, waiting for something to give an indication of whether she would be suitable, but before he could come to any conclusions there was a Nightstriker bark echoing off the walls.

Wrrr, if Wanderer had found one then they could always come back and check this one. Dreamer pushed from the wall, twisting and smoothly catching himself on the rising air of the nest, quickly locating his friend and gliding over. "I maybe find one," he said as he approached.

"Good, we maybe help two fledglings," Wanderer replied, scanning the nest below, then angled himself into a spiralling descent. Dreamer followed, also watching for the Rock-Scale fledglings.

They reached the bottom of the nest and glanced at each other in confusion. "We miss them?" Dreamer warbled uncertainly.

"Maybe…"

They flapped up through the turbulent air of the lower nest to the more stable updrafts and rode them back up, but there was still no sign, and they were partway down a third pass when Storm-Fly's summons pricked their ears.

Far from marvelling at how he could somehow pick her up from the general din of the nest, Dreamer was starting to get worried. "They flying outside nest?" he asked as they started ascending again.

Wanderer stared pensively down the nest, then shook himself in the air and turned up towards Storm-Fly. "Yes, probably. We find them tomorrow."

They alighted on their ledge and trotted to their spot, settling down to watch Storm-Fly with her fledglings. Yes, of course, there would be a perfectly rational explanation, they were probably just getting a drink or something before sleeping.

His thoughts went back to the boats they'd seen around the water pool island. Just a coincidence, surely…

Their unease grew steadily throughout the next day as they still couldn't find the fledglings, and they gave up the day after that; they'd already searched everywhere, it was clear they'd flown off somewhere. Whether into danger or not was impossible to tell.

Wanderer emerged from the top of the nest into a bright and clear sky, the sky-fire already well into its journey. The air carried warm, stuffy scents that hinted of long lights and dark angry clouds, signalling the end of the warming-season.

What he had initially intended to be only a sky-ice-cycle from the Long-Paws had now gone well past two, the ordeals with the bad thoughts and alpha distracting them from their wandering. He sighed as he finished his short loop out over the water and dropped back into the nest, swooping down to their ledge where Dreamer was just rousing.

"Hrrr, you fly already?" Dreamer asked him, then yawned widely.

"Some. I want talk."

He sat on his haunches and cleaned his face to help himself wake while Dreamer stretched and did the same, then, on a mischievous whim, swiped Dreamer's paw out from under him and fled from the resulting growling pursuit. His tail was inevitably pounced, and he rolled onto his back to fend off the teeth snapping in his face, yawning and feigning boredom.

Dreamer snorted at him and hunched back, and then Wanderer reflexively squeaked and thrashed as claws lightly scrabbled at his sensitive belly. He managed to kick Dreamer away and then rolled to his paws with a growl, the ensuing tussle ending with Dreamer pinned and Wanderer happily licking his head.

"Grrr, what you want talk about?" Dreamer grumbled from under him.

"What you – think about – warm-nest?" Wanderer asked him between licks.

"Grrr, stop that!" The Nightstriker squirmed – futilely – but Wanderer relented and settled with nibbling his wing-shoulders instead. "That not much better," Dreamer groaned with a purr, though he shifted his wing for easier access.

"Good," Wanderer chuffed, swapping to using his claws. "No clever words. Tell me what you think."

"Warm here, that nice," he purred. "I learn much about flying-nest-kin. It good we helped fledglings also."

That was still a sore spot for Wanderer, a pawful of pawfuls of lights later and they had not returned. If he'd just been faster at-

He grounded that thought, focusing on grooming. It was good to help nest-kin, but they weren't his responsibility, and it was just as possible that nothing bad had happened anyway. "That good, yes. But what think now?"

Dreamer's silence, while he tried to think of clever words that that would mean what he felt but say something else entirely, was answer enough. "Stupid," Wanderer grumbled, batting him on the head. "You not want stay here?"

"I want stay here," Dreamer sighed. "But…" He shifted his head to watch Storm-Fly and her fledglings, all thoroughly preening themselves.

"It not enough," Wanderer finished for him as he settled down next to him, and Dreamer hummed his assent, ears and frills drooping. "For me also… Hot-season starting, we here for much time now. How you feel about Long-Paw nest?"

Dreamer's frills twitched, as if agitated. "They do us bad. But they do us good also… I want go back."

"Next light," Wanderer crooned, nudging the side of his face. "We go next light."

It's not possible…

A Night Fury was the ultimate dragon, extremely fast both in the air and on the ground and with an incredible amount of strength and firepower. No dragon could compete with it in terms of versatility or intelligence. But, not only had Alvin failed to tame one, he hadn't even been able to contain them, and with two opportunities to do so. Even the Night Furies aside, his work with Nadders had resulted in two corpses, a fickle guard, and an axe that was as likely to strike its wielder as its target.

But, somehow, that lunatic… Alvin's hand trembled as he held the parchment, not even seeing the runes frantically scribbled across it. His long-awaited news from Berserk, of something he found was even more frightful than a Night Fury in this particular circumstance.

He forced himself to steady. Allowing the Berserkers to take over the Archipelago would be a disaster, he needed to somehow avert that sudden likelihood. Taking a deep breath, he put the note aside and began to plan, bringing together snippets of information from various reports and working long into the night to spin everything in his favour.

And any time he started to lose focus, he needed only a glance at the crumpled parchment, at how it culminated in one single word written in large, deliberate letters.

SKRILL