Wanderer stayed with the Long-Paws long enough for them to start agreeing this was a good small-land before racing off to check it out properly. It was big, maybe half the size of the Long-Paw nest small-land they had come from, and contained a nice variety of terrain. There were also still patches of snow on the higher reaches of the mountains, which Dreamer explained would provide a reliable source of moving water.
But he needed to feel the land, see how it suited them, maybe stay a few nights. They would then fly to other small-lands and do the same, and pick the best one out of them all. There was no rush.
The bickering of the Long-Paws faded into the distance as he pumped his wings and split the sky, momentarily forgetting what he was doing and letting out a joyous roar. But his sound-sight revealing the land below reminded him of his task, which admittedly was more important than just flying. Even if he hadn't yet had a chance to really fly with these slow Long-Paws dragging on his tail.
He dove between the mountains, lazily drifting side to side, and pulled up to skim his claws across the surface of a large lake; there weren't any immediate signs of fish in it, but they had the sea for that. He banked hard and flapped into a landing on the grassy shore, then put his nose to the water. It smelled clean and fresh, and tasted it too. Dreamer, forgoing caution, pulled into a hover above the lake and dropped backwards into it with a happy shout.
Wanderer huffed amusement and slipped in after him, revelling in the cool caress of the water over his scales. It was deeper than he had thought, and much larger than the one at the Long-Paw nest. Yes, this was good, he looked forward to coming back at night.
Dreamer lunged playfully at him, but Wanderer snaked away and powered back to the shore, hopped out onto the bank to shake himself off, then bounded across the long grass and into the trees. He noted with satisfaction that the grass near the trees had been trimmed, suggesting there would be prey to find and hunt.
The sound of pursuit told him that Dreamer had a different idea of what to hunt, and they tore through the forest in a giddy chase. The further in they ran, the denser the trees became and the more Dreamer's agility overcame Wanderer's raw speed, until he lightly pounced Wanderer's flank and leapt away to disappear into the trees.
Wanderer just trotted to a halt and stood there, panting lightly, to look around. Small wing-prey twittered and chirped all around him, and the wind gently played through the broad leaves in a comforting, peaceful hum.
"Hrrr, these trees different than trees at Long-Paw nest," Dreamer warbled, trotting back into sight. "I think cold-season warmer here."
"That good," Wanderer agreed, hopping over to the nearest tree to deftly climb up the trunk. It was a bit softer than he was used to, allowing his claws an easier and firmer grip, but the branches also flexed more easily and felt generally weaker. That wasn't an issue, just something to be aware of.
There were also strange scents on them, some sort of hunter… He gestured to Dreamer, who flapped up and grabbed the underside of the branch to scent it himself with a wary hum-
The branch broke, pitching them down and depositing them on the ground with twin shrieks of surprise. Wanderer shook himself off, then scratched at where some sharp twigs had pricked his hide before bounding back to the edge of the forest; the canopy was too thick to just fly through, and he hadn't seen any clearings yet.
Once back in the air, they lazily flew around to inspect the fields and cliffs, look for caves, and generally familiarise themselves with the small-land. Much of the light had passed when they finally returned to the Long-Paws… who were still bickering, even as they spread out their Long-Paw things.
"Well," Fish-Legs sighed as the Nightstrikers walked over to see what they were doing, "about the only thing we've decided on is that it's a good place."
"Yes, good place," Wanderer agreed. "What more need do?"
"We can't decide on the design of our –," he groaned.
Ruffnut stomped over, throwing her forelegs around. "I'm telling you, open plan is the way forward," she shouted, making no sense whatsoever. "And that way, we can build a boar – in the middle!"
"But that'll leave us wide open!" Astrid shouted, pointing at some lines in the dirt. "We might have to defend ourselves, and one big building makes us an easy –."
They continued bickering in much the same manner, most of it unintelligible nonsense, until the sounds were ringing painfully in Wanderer's ears. He roared angrily, silencing them. "What problem?" he asked Dreamer tiredly.
"Hrrr, I think they argue for what den to make," he grumbled back.
"Long-Paws can make dens?" he blurted out without thinking. Of course they could, they shaped trees in their strange ways and made all sorts of nonsense; clearly their dens were made in the same way, and he was fairly sure they'd somehow dug into solid rock to make a den for the Nightstrikers. "Why arguing then?" he huffed. "I not think you all want share den. Make own dens."
They stared at him as if he'd slapped them with his tail, except Ruffnut who just looked confused.
"But that not matter," he continued with a huff. "This good small-land, but we keep looking. Maybe find better small-land."
"What!?" Fishlegs exclaimed. "But it took us a week to find this one! At this rate we won't even have a shelter built for winter!"
"That because you fly slow," Wanderer growled; he wasn't happy about that either. "But we not find den we like, also no sweet-grass on this small-land." The latter wasn't something they needed, but he would definitely take it if given the choice. Although, it might actually be necessary for his sanity if these stupid Long-Paws were going to be like this the whole time. He was tempted to just fly off and leave them here, it wasn't the Nightstrikers' problem if they couldn't keep up.
"We can make you a cave," Astrid said slowly. "Exactly the way you want it. No searching or luck needed." Wanderer grumbled under his breath, true enough that solved one problem, but he still-
"And we can just grow some dragon nip," Fish-Legs chirped.
Wanderer's mouth fell open as he stared at him.
"Does someone wanna fill me in here?" Ruffnut complained petulantly while the other Long-Paws laughed.
"Just introducing a dragon to the idea of farming," Tuffnut chuckled, Wanderer committing that very important word to memory.
"What, growing dragon nip?" she asked questioningly, then looked at Wanderer with a faint grin. "I'd have thought he'd be more interested in how we grow meat."
…There was no way. Long-Paws were clever, he could sort of imagine them taking their strange claws to a patch of ground and there being sweet-grass there when they were done, but they couldn't just… make prey.
…Could they?
Tuffnut leaned in towards his sister with a wide grin. "I think you broke him."
The base was coming together, slowly but surely, as the days progressed. The riders each worked on their own huts, with the occasional helping hand from each other and a lot of trial and error. The same went for the Nightstriker's den.
"Okay Meatlug, you're up."
Dreamer, hanging above the entrance with his head poking inside, watched as Meatlug shuffled over and took great bites of the rock, shattering the column with her crushing jaw and then crunching up the pieces. A sweaty Fishlegs then took his place again and started swinging with the pickaxe to dig out another column.
Deeming the progress satisfactory, Dreamer pushed from the cliff and drifted around the rough flats and ledges that rimmed the wide bay they'd claimed, seeing if there was anything he could help with. The progress here looked slower, but only really because everyone was still building the support structures and had yet to start laying down floors or walls.
They'd also agreed to build a communal area, but while they could have all chipped in and got that done first to get a roof to sleep under, they apparently found that idea offensive and would rather sleep on the dirt for a while longer. Dreamer understood the sentiment. Even had a solid roof been completed already, he'd still be out sleeping on the ledges surrounding the base. He was a dragon, but the riders had their own dragons to snuggle up to so it wasn't as bad as it could be. A little worse for Fishlegs because his dragon's wings were not suitable for sleeping under, but there were places the occasional rain did not reach.
Dreamer watched as Astrid hopped onto Stormfly and took off towards the forest they'd been logging, and drifted over to her. She didn't even notice him, just sat in the saddle with a scowl.
He rolled his eyes and just coasted along with her. Whatever was going on between her and Snotlout was anyone's guess, but he was getting pretty close to getting involved – the pair were practically at each other's throats, refusing to cooperate and barely even talking. Which was stupid, how was anyone supposed to resolve an issue by just ignoring it?
Astrid snorted disdainfully at the trees that had been felled, hopping down and inspecting one with tense mutters. Apparently deeming it acceptable, she hacked away at the branches with a small wood axe, and Dreamer helpfully cleared them away as they were separated from the trunk. She seemed to be working some frustration out on the wood, jaw clenched and brows furrowed, and barely acknowledged he was there.
With the tree now more resembling a log, she hopped back onto Stormfly who needed no prompting to grab it and take it back to the beginnings of Astrid's hut, on a bluff overlooking the bay and much of the coast. She was clearly planning to build up a bit, which would give her an excellent tactical view. It was very Astrid.
Dreamer dropped the stack of branches he was carrying nearby, a collection of various sizes – if she had no use for them now, she would find a use later – and winged over to the twins.
Their hut sat a bit lower, on a level flat that was just generally difficult to get to. The first thing they had done was actually dig out what they called a boar pit, which presumably was intended to contain one or more boars at some point. Dreamer wasn't entirely sure what they were intending on doing with the boars after that, and didn't really care to find out. He'd stick to hunting his own.
He helped hold a pillar in place while they fit the crossbeams to it, slotting into a sturdy fitting chiselled into the wood that needed no nails or bindings but rather just used gravity and the support of the structure. It was weird to see them acting so seriously about something… but then all became right with the world when they tested the stability of the structure by swinging off the beams and jumping around on it, jeering at Barf and Belch who snapped playfully at their feet. Dreamer left them to it.
Fishlegs was working on the Nightstriker's den and as such hadn't really made much progress with his own house. Once he was done mining out the entrance the others would take over in digging out a larger area inside, able to start working in multiple directions so that Meatlug could make infrequent trips. But he had the foundation of his hut laid out, on the widest flat of land extending from the cliff. The space was necessary for the small farm plot next to it, which was already growing little sprouts; by the time their preserves ran out, they should have some fresh vegetables.
He hadn't really wanted to be the one to do the farming, but the moment he made the mistake of saying anyone could do it because he'd brought a book, he'd been unanimously nominated. Dreamer suspected any more such tomes of wisdom would not be revealed unless necessary, though he seemed to quite enjoy the job once he'd started on it.
And then there was Snotlout's house. He'd somehow made the most progress, despite also being the one busily logging the nearby trees for everyone to use. Perhaps that wasn't so surprising, Dreamer hadn't seen him relaxing or goofing off yet. When he wasn't sleeping he was hard at work, it was actually quite impressive.
Granted, that dedication seemed to be in making sure his hut was slightly higher than Astrid's, and appeared to involve a crude carving of what was probably himself holding up the front half, but the point was that he was dedicated.
"What are you looking at?" Snotlout growled loudly as he descended into a landing next to him, Hookfang landing next to the tall log he'd just dropped.
"Just thinking you do good here," Dreamer replied, ignoring his acerbic tone.
Which was just as well, because it was almost immediately dropped. "Oh… Uh… Thanks," Snotlout muttered abashedly.
Dreamer purred, a little confused, but happy his words had lightened the boy's mood. He helped to wedge some supports in place before taking off again.
The merry crackling of the fire set a pleasant background to the contented sighs and groans of everyone sating their hunger with a whole spit-roasted boar. Or what was left of it after the Nightstrikers had gutted it, though nobody ever begrudged them taking the tasty inner meats; Dreamer could understand that, he hadn't been so fond of them as a Long-Paw either, but now he found them far more palatable.
"How are we looking for progress?" Astrid asked as everyone finished eating. "We're coming into autumn now, winter isn't far off."
"Pff, that's like, months away," Snotlout scoffed. "We'll easily be done by then."
"Will we?" Astrid shot back. "We've still got the Furies' cave to dig out, nobody's even started flooring or roofing, which would be hard enough even if we had a bench saw, and we've still got to do something about getting around while our dragons are gone."
Dreamer paused in his grooming of himself. That was something he'd forgotten about, that the riders would be without dragons for most of the winter. Hopefully none of them expected the Nightstrikers to ferry them around, though Astrid at least clearly did not.
"Not to mention how much stuff we keep finding we need," Fishlegs said mildly, tossing a bone into the fire with a scattering of sparks. "Nobody considered we might build onto a cliff like this, we're probably going to need another hundred yards of rope at least, even if we're really careful with it. I don't even know where we could get that much."
Astrid shook her head. "We'll probably just have to do without the zip lines for now."
Both twins loudly and vehemently expressed their dislike of that idea while Dreamer stretched and padded away. Resources were indeed going to be a problem, and he couldn't figure out any way of producing uniform planks, even just taking a handsaw to them, as they had to use green wood that would warp as it dried. Maybe that wasn't much of a problem if they were well fitted and thick enough, but even still, sawing lengthways down a tree by hand was not an easy process even forgoing uniformity.
He flapped up to the ledge they'd been sleeping on, taking a moment to flame the rock before dropping onto it. Mmmrrrrrr, how had he ever made do without his fire before? This was sheer bliss.
Wanderer alighted moments later, quickly taking advantage of the warm patch; Dreamer was purring so heartily from the heat seeping into his muscles that he wasn't even remotely annoyed at being shoved over a bit, and the other Nightstriker was warm in his own way.
"I think you dreaming again," Wanderer purred, shuffling firmly up against Dreamer's back and draping a wing over him. Dreamer only strung a questioning lilt into his purring, feeling as if he was already about to drop off to sleep. "I think you not need help Long-Paws with that. Let them do Long-Paw things."
"But I can help," Dreamer replied lethargically. "I maybe think something."
"I know you will think something. But how they learn thinking if you think for them?"
Dreamer hummed noncommittally at that. In any case, now was not a time for thinking.
As it turned out, a convenient solution to the resources problem presented itself before long.
During their eager exploration of the surrounding sea – mostly looking for sweet-grass to transplant – Dreamer barked in happy recognition of the trade vessel cutting through the choppy water. "Get Astrid," he chuffed to Wanderer, who swiftly banked away and shrank into the distance.
There was little chance they would lose the ship with how slowly it was travelling, but only one of them was needed to fetch someone who could actually talk to the merchant, at least without needing ink and paper. Dreamer wheeled above, well aware of Johann's attitude towards Night Furies and not wanting to spook him-
Actually, which would be more intimidating? Landing with a pleasant greeting, or wheeling above like a hunter stalking its prey?
He glided down and gently alighted on the prow – his tail and flared wings did wonders to keep himself steady with the boat rocking and pitching in the waves – then rolled his eyes at the terrified squeak from the aft of the ship.
"Well you can reach it now, so get rid of it!" Johann hissed from where he hid behind some crates.
Dreamer looked curiously to the deckhand, lifting his frills and an ear in curiosity.
"No' bein' funny, it'd be cheaper to jus' give it wha' it wants than pay me ter figh' it off," the man said warily, then jumped when Dreamer nodded appreciatively at him. It was nice for someone to look at him and think 'I don't want to fight you' for a change.
In return, he did his best to appear as non-threatening as possible, looking around with wide curious eyes and settling down on the rail. He would quite like to go through the wares, but they were all boxed, safe from the elements at sea. In any case, it wasn't long until Astrid descended on Stormfly anyway, gently landing in a clear area by Dreamer and dismounting. Wanderer was apparently content to continue circling far above them.
"Mistress Astrid, I implore you, make him leave before he breaks something!" Johann pleaded, peering over the crate.
"Who, Hiccup? Naw, he won't be a problem. Will you, you big softie?" She reached up and scratched firmly over Dreamer's head, which he couldn't help but lean into with a happy groan. "Actually, I have a favour to ask." His head dropped a claw-length as she abruptly let it go to turn and walk over to Johann. "We happen to be setting up in the area, and, well, we're in need of tools and supplies. I don't suppose you could swing by? It's not even a half day's sailing from here."
"Supplies?" Johann echoed, his demeanour quickly changing from piteously frightened to calm and calculating, and briefly glanced at Dreamer. "Keep us on course," he said sternly to the deckhand, who shrugged and adjusted the rigging before heading to the steering wheel. "What kind of supplies?"
"Well, we're only finding stuff as we go along. Right now we need a bench saw, but nails, ropes, and any other construction tools would be great."
"Building something? I see. But how are you going to pay?" He stared intently at Astrid, stroking his wide beard.
Astrid briefly lost her balance as the boat pitched. "Er…" Dreamer groaned; surely, she knew how trade worked… The concept of freely sharing everything around the village was done with the assumption that everyone was sharing, though it was easy to fall into that trap of thinking when one was a kid and thus was only ever on the receiving end.
Still, she recovered quickly. "We have Hookfang and Stormfly, we could trade you Nightmare gel and Nadder spines?"
Johann hummed thoughtfully. "Nadder spines I have aplenty, Nightmare gel I can get elsewhere. I realise you are new to this, so will save you some time and tell you how it works. I need to not only reimburse my costs for the supplies I trade you, but also my time and running costs for sailing to you. If it's nearly a half day from here, it could easily add a day to my journey, which is time my other clients will have to wait to get their own wares."
Dreamer wanted to snort, but held his peace. It wasn't as if Johann would sail to this spot, then to the base, then back here before continuing along.
Unfortunately, it seemed Astrid was not versed in the ways of traders, and was about to learn things the hard way. "Well, what do you want then?"
"Hmm…" Johann made a show of looking around, and Dreamer rolled his eyes. The merchant obviously already knew exactly what-
"Night Fury hide," he said suddenly, and Dreamer briefly lost his own balance and nearly fell off the rail. "It's the only thing you have of any real value, aside from the dragons themselves." The last bit was said wryly, his tone suggesting he wasn't interested in actually trading in them.
"Ah, I…" She turned back to Dreamer, the question on her face.
He very nearly just agreed with her, but Wanderer's advice suddenly came to mind, and he hesitated. "I think…" He struggled with the words, confound this limited language, Dragonese simply wasn't built for concepts such as ownership or barter. "You help us, we help you. We talk later." There, not entirely fair because she was already backed into a corner, but it would be a good lesson; Wanderer was right in one sense, she needed to learn these things.
She smiled gratefully and went back to Johann. "We can do that. But we need the supplies before winter, while the Night Furies won't shed until spring. Is that a problem?"
Johann looked downcast. "I am afraid you do not have the reputation to take such a loan, my dear. Unless you can somehow procure some for the trade, perhaps from Berk if needed, I cannot supply you with the goods."
A few moments of frantic thinking. "How about… a substance that completely prevents rust for at least a year, and keeps locks and similar things moving smoothly?"
Hey, wait a minute…
"Hmmm…" Johann went back to stroking his beard. "That would indeed be useful," he said slowly, "especially if it works in this sea air. If you can provide, that is. But…"
Wow, Johann was desperate to make a mistake like that. Even Astrid picked up on it. "…You really want the Fury hide, don't you," she mused with a wolfish grin. "Well like I said, they're still using it. You can take this now and have that later, or I guess we'll just have to pack up and go home, or find someone else to trade with."
"You drive a hard bargain," Johann agreed quickly, "but I can agree to those terms."
Dreamer listened while they hammered out the details, a rough estimate of value and verbal contract of trade. Astrid was actually doing pretty well for thinking on her paws – feet – and hammered the price down to a single strip of hide to guarantee his arrival, and three more for the agreed supplies.
Which was good, Dreamer had been a little worried she'd sell his entire hide, and maybe Wanderer's too, for a few tools and some rope. Unfortunately, he had a pretty good idea of what it was worth; more than that. But she at least seemed to understand value, and to not just give something away because it wasn't needed.
Or, by how smug she looked as she remounted Stormfly, even carrying a couple of jars to fill and return, maybe she'd just wanted to one-up the trader after he'd cut her down at the start. She was the type to get petty over someone striking at her confidence.
Just like Snotlout, really. If he could just grow up a bit, they'd be a good match for each other. Hrrr, she needed to grow up a little too, in some ways.
Dreamer thought about how he could provide his lesson to the future Chief; it was simple sense, really, not to put yourself into someone's debt without a solid plan of repayment. Ideally, he would help her in the same way she had tried to teach him all those years ago… but more practically.
After they'd landed back at the base and she just set the jars in front of him with an appreciative thanks, he had an idea.
Dumping another bucket of freezing water over herself in the warm light of the setting sun, Astrid grit her teeth and forced back the shivers. Part of her was wondering if a certain crazy Viking who had liked inventing things could have made some easy way for a dragon to heat water for bathing, and was tempted to work out herself what should by all rights be a very simple system, but she squashed it with pure Viking logic that it would be comfortable and thus tempt her to weakness.
So she bore the cold with pride, swiftly scooping up another bucket of water and upending it on her own head.
Her bathing done, she roughly shook herself off, towelled herself dry, and redressed. She had plenty of time to get back to the base before dark truly fell, though she scowled at the growing need to change her routine with the gradual shortening of the days.
Next time. She couldn't afford to be caught out after dark like this by wolves or something, though nobody had seen signs of any yet. Boars might give her trouble if it was dark enough. She'd… just have to bring Stormfly or something, though she would miss the light jog back; it was an effective and practical way to warm herself up again, and using her dragon to warm up felt like cheating.
It was with thoughts of being caught out on her own in the forest that two such predators prowled out in front of her, momentarily stopping her heart and then rapidly quickening it – but it was just the Furies, their dark bodies playing tricks on her in the failing light.
"Whew, you guys need to wear some bells or something," she laughed through heavy breaths, trying to hide her momentary panic under her exertion. Hiccup snorted at her, while Toothy looked thoughtful but confused. "What's up?"
"We give you our saliva," Hiccup said with a croon, carefully sitting on his haunches and wrapping his tail around his legs.
"Yeah, once we get this saw going everything's going to go a lot quicker." Johann had been delighted in the stuff, testing it on his own cabin door which could now open and close without a terrible squeak. They hadn't told him what it was. "Ah, you said we'd help each other. Alright, what'cha need?"
"I not know," he said thoughtfully, then looked to his brother, who shrugged his wings. "What you can give us?"
She stared at him. She'd never thought about what a dragon would actually want, and now that she did, she wasn't coming up with much. "Dried Fish? Belly rubs…?" She wasn't trying to sound demeaning, but they really never seemed to want anything else. Other than their cave, but that was only so that they didn't need to go find their own, which they would be perfectly happy doing; the riders just wouldn't be able to follow, build proper shelter, and stockpile in time for winter.
Toothy snorted. "Fishlegs already give fish for us do things. Also you already give scratches."
"Well I could stop giving scratches if you want," she teased.
"Could you?" Hiccup asked slyly.
…Being totally honest with herself, "No…" Well, she was out of ideas. Intelligent though they were, they were like wild animals in most ways. The only things they needed or even wanted were food, water, and-
She clamped down on her thoughts, appalled by where they had nearly gone for a moment. "You must have something in mind, to be here now," she hedged, trying not to think about what she could give a dragon, and then trying not to think about not thinking about it because it was making her think about it.
Hiccup's face flattened into a somewhat smug smile. "I always wonder what Long-Paw taste like," he said with a purr, both Furies' mouths parting into truly evil grins as they slowly walked towards her.
Several long moments passed while she stared blankly at them.
The bucket fell to the ground. "What?" she said as weakly as she suddenly felt, barely managing a small step back. She must have misheard, seen a word wrong…! But those wicked teeth were telling her otherwise, and the bright green eyes, seemingly glowing in the evening shade of the forest, were outright predatory in the way they focused on her. "But you… don't eat…"
"No, we not," Toothy said menacingly as he advanced. "But we want try it… fresh."
They lunged, and she barely even got her hand to her axe, let alone raise it to her defence, before she was pinned to the ground. A pressure instantly pressed to her ribs, and a deep breath reflexively built itself in her chest-
The pressure wetly ran up her front and over her face, and her arms were released to vainly try to fend off the brutal licking assault as she spluttered and yelled grievous insults that were only cut off by more licking and spluttering. Her training kicked in and she nearly managed to roll away, but that assumed she was being assaulted by claws or spines, not wide and heavy tongues, and didn't work as well as she'd hoped.
Finally, after dozens of licks and nearly drowning in slobber, she managed to kick herself away. "You rat munchers!" she yelled, throwing rocks, sticks, and the bucket after them as they ran off into the trees, laughing as they went. Ugh, her top half was drenched in slimy drool, and right after she'd bathed! She couldn't even contemplate trying to sleep like this, she reeked of raw fish – at that, she could taste fish too, and gagged and spluttered before pursing her lips tight.
Back to the lake she stomped, simply wading into the frigid water; there was little point undressing again, as it all needed washing anyway. But try as she might, she couldn't get the slimy stuff out of the fabric, and even her skin still felt gross by the time she gave up and stormed out of the water, too cold to suppress the shivers. At least they'd had the decency to send Stormfly, either that or her dragon had simply gone looking for her.
Though the Nadder scented her as she neared, and chuckled.
"Don't even think about it!" Astrid snapped at her, holding a finger to the Nadder's face. Stormfly just stared innocently back at her, half her tongue still hanging out, and then offered her neck. There was no saddle, but they wouldn't need it for this short flight, and the warm scales were more appreciated anyway.
On the way back, she did have to grudgingly admit that the Furies had got her good.
Ruffnut dropped onto the log next to Astrid and grabbed the spare axe, a little lump of metal on a stick that was good for cleaning branches of their shoots and not much else. That was fine, as that was what they were doing.
They sat in silence for a little while, working through a pile of leafy wood to make a stack of nice straight branches. She appreciated they could do this, as they hadn't had much girl time lately with being so busy with their own things. It was nice to just have pleasant company for a change. Besides, Astrid looked like she was ready to wring someone's neck, some company would be good for her.
Actually, while Astrid's smooth skin and features were the envy of most girls on Berk, she looked even more radiant today, completely in spite of her dour mood. "Wow," Ruffnut commented conversationally as she hacked the twigs off the branch, "you change your soap or something?"
"Don't even ask…" Astrid groaned.
"Come ooon, don't hog your secrets! You've already got all the boys pining over you, you don't need any more advantages!"
Astrid froze mid-swing. "No," she said suddenly. "No," she said again, waving her axe in Ruffnut's face. "No, no, no, no!" she continued denying, throwing down the axe and stomping to her feet.
Ruffnut watched her in total confusion as she stormed off. "But-"
"No!"
Watching a Long-Paw den come together turned out to be quite an impressive sight. It had taken well over a sky-ice-cycle to assemble the tough skeletons and then shape more trees into the required pieces to go around them, but less than a sky-fire-cycle to all be put together.
Wanderer watched with mild interest as thick trees with flat sides were laid down on top of each other against the outside of the skeleton, eventually meeting at a point at the top to make up the sides of the den. As each tree went in, more flat trees at the front and back hooked into them and held them down, though he didn't know what in turn held those down.
This was Astrid's den going up this sky-fire-cycle, the last to be completed. She looked giddy beyond belief about it, an amusing mix of utter exhaustion and bouncing anticipation. From what Wanderer understood, they all intended to continue adding to their dens in some way or another, but he could appreciate the anticipation of finally having somewhere nice to sleep.
After all, the Nightstrikers' own den was also nearing completion. They'd nearly spent a night in it on a few occasions, but it smelled badly of Long-Paw and Rock-Scale, scents that would only be renewed whatever they did. Scents that were in the process of being eradicated by cleansing Spine-Tail fire, a pleasant side-effect of Storm-Fly using her fire to smooth the jagged floor.
A process that was slow because of how big the Nightstrikers' den had been made, taking time with both Storm-Fly's limited fire and that the den quickly became too hot for even the Rock-Scale's comfort. The air was just too stifling, too dry, not at all pleasant to be in until the rock was allowed to cool completely. But it would be worth it.
He tired of watching the Long-Paws build the den, stretching his wings and catching the wind as he dropped from the top of the cliff. He angled out to sea, towards a black shape hurtled from the sky to strike the waves with a blue light before fleeing from the short-lived white cloud that erupted from the water.
Dreamer shouted happily as he winged over, then rolled back into another screeching dive to continue practising his fire. It was a little trickier to fire at speed, harder to control, but the shot would travel faster and drill deeper into water before exploding, or do more damage to a more solid target.
And he was picking it up quickly. Wanderer was actually a little intimidated, it had taken him twice as long to reach this point. Granted, he had been more focused on surviving at the time, and had been left to figure out all but the basics from memory only, but that wasn't the point. At least those memories were not so painful now. His family was gone, possibly forever, but he would always remember them warmly in his heart, and pass their lessons onto his own offspring.
His gaze went from Dreamer to the horizon, which invited him to wander, beckoning enticingly. Since falling to the trap of the warm-nest and its greedy queen, he had never ventured far, the small-lands here were all entirely new to him. That unfamiliarity was tugging at him, begging him to explore and scent new things and find fun things to do…
A fish startled him by inexplicably flying up to meet him, though he was not slow in snapping it from the air and gulping it down. Dreamer then drifted up next to him, watching him curiously with his ears and frills out, then glanced out to the horizon himself.
Wanderer barked happily and gestured to the sky, to the boundless water in all directions. He wanted to know what was out there, and he knew Dreamer did too, but their exploring so far had been limited to within sight of their new nest.
"But… we maybe find Death-Song," Dreamer crooned warily. "We should wait for Long-Paws…"
"We kill that danger," Wanderer grumbled. "Maybe we find another, but we know now if have bad thoughts." Mostly he was annoyed at himself for falling for it again, he'd even recognised the thoughts as strange but hadn't considered the possibility that there was another thing that could put thoughts in his head. "If think strange thoughts, we come back here."
Dreamer gave him a wary warble, but then angled out to the unknown and beat his wings for speed. True travelling speed, not the silly slow pace they had been forced to in flying out here, and soon they were roaring their delight in skimming the clouds. They did find some small-lands, but Dreamer was still too cautious to land, which was fine. For now, simply knowing they were there was enough to satisfy that itch, and it was a good way to ensure they didn't fall to more thought-snares.
While the sky-fire flew high, Dreamer suddenly levelled out with a wary, determined warble, staring intently at something down below. A ship, something that was now familiar and unremarkable. But if Dreamer was wary of it, there was likely a good reason to be.
They drifted down towards it, low enough to get a good look, but there was nothing about this ship to tell them of its intentions. They were out here to find vile Long-Paws, ones hunting not for food but for despicable, rotten reasons such as how the Nightstrikers had been hunted and trapped as fledglings. Were these such hunters? Or were they simply regular Long-Paws travelling in their excruciatingly slow way?
"Watch them," Dreamer growled. "I see."
Wanderer chuffed a wary acknowledgement, staring intently at the Long-Paws on the ship. They appeared harmless enough, though they began scurrying around as Dreamer dropped lower and slowed to glide languidly alongside them.
It wasn't long before he flapped back up to Wanderer, a snarl on his face. "They hunters. Talk about catching us."
"I kill them," Wanderer growled, "you use your fire already."
"Wait," Dreamer huffed. "Not kill them."
Wanderer looked over to him. "Dreamer, these hunters want starve us, maybe kill us. They starve, kill other wing-hunters."
"I know," Dreamer crooned. "But if we kill them, they will think we dangerous. Not stop Long-Paws hunting us. Maybe make more Long-Paws hunt us. Bad." He then purred maliciously. "You can shoot tree on floating-thing?"
He gave Dreamer a distinctly unimpressed look as he folded his wings into a dive.
Out of habit, he flexed his sub-wings into shape to produce his sound-sight, simultaneously watching Dreamer behind him and the ship in front of him. There was nothing else around, but it was a good habit to be in, and would also help teach these Long-Paws that Nightstrikers were not for capturing.
Nightstrikers were for fleeing from.
A bolt of fire left his maw and quickly crossed the distance to the ship, striking the tree jutting from the ship squarely in the base as he pulled up. The resulting explosion tore apart the tree-thing and carried on to open the belly of the ship too, revealing the dark interior.
But the ship was intact, and as he screeched past, well out of range of their thrown claws that they hadn't even bothered using, he couldn't see any Long-Paws that had been injured or killed. He looked back in time to see the tree-thing, with its strange sideways wing, crash into the top of the ship, totally ruined.
He laboured up to fly alongside Dreamer again, and huffed derisively at him. Dreamer just chuffed somewhat apologetically as they stared down at the Long-Paws scurrying over their damaged ship, which had slowed to a stop. After a time, the scurrying stopped and spindly legs emerged from the sides of the ship, which turned it around and began dragging it towards the small-land in the distance.
Its progress was laughably slow, even slower than with its silly sideways wing. But it was moving, and would get there… eventually.
"This very good," Dreamer hummed smugly as they resumed wandering the skies, leaving the ship to flounder. "Not kill those hunters, but they… need do many things now before can hunt again. We can just keep doing that, maybe they leave."
"Like swatting fledgling?" Wanderer warbled curiously. "Learn not do things when get swatted."
"Some," Dreamer replied. "But Long-Paws need things for live, hunt. We break their things, they not can hunt. We break many things, they get less from hunt than we break."
"Maybe more like small fast prey? Not want hunt if fill belly less than use in hunt." Like the small ground-prey they hunted in the Long-Paw dens in the cold-season, more for something to do than filling their bellies.
"Hrr, yes, that good thinking. We make their prey smaller, harder for catch."
And with that, Wanderer could understand the earlier thinking too. If a prey is hard to catch, don't hunt it. If a hunter attacks you either way, better to fight and kill it so it does not interfere with other hunts. It was good thinking. Even if he suspected a little that Dreamer was only justifying his dislike of killing.
A tired but hearty cheer went up as the last board was hammered into place, completing the communal hut. At this point it was nothing but a rough stone pedestal acting as a small table around a fire in an otherwise empty room, but it was done, as were all the planned gangways and ziplines.
How long had it taken…? Two months? Three? Astrid had lost track of time, and no longer cared. They were somewhere in autumn now, and that was the main thing, that they'd completed the necessary bits. Even if they weren't expecting the harsh storms suffered on Berk, the chill promised a bitingly cold winter nonetheless, and they wouldn't have their dragons.
She slid from the roof and dropped to the ground, then staggered inside and collapsed against a wall. The black dragons were also inside, rolling over each other and growling playfully. Fishlegs carefully edged around them, trying to check the wall for structural stability and muttering to himself. Snotlout and the twins walked in shortly after, laughing and jeering but also out of breath and ready to just relax for a bit.
"Finally!" Ruffnut groaned and just dropped to lie on her back.
"Whoo!" Tuffnut exclaimed tiredly, collapsing forwards to land on his face next to her. Snotlout rolled his eyes and walked over to lean on the table in the middle of the room.
Ruffnut sat up to look around the somewhat dark room. "I swear, we've been building so long, I've forgotten how to do anything else. What are we gonna do tomorrow?"
"How about," Tuffnut moaned groggily into the floor, "not building?"
"I second that!" his sister agreed.
Snotlout huffed. "Suit yourself," he said with a glare at Astrid, "I'm going to mount a catapult on my hut."
"I estimate you would achieve precisely one shot before it tears your house down," Fishlegs reported from where he was shuffling around the wall. Apparently satisfied, he nodded to himself and walked over to sit down with the rest of them, forming a sort of circle.
"I could make it work!" Snotlout shot back.
"Tall wooden structures are not built to withstand the forces of throwing a boulder hundreds of feet into the air. It creates an opposing force in the other direction, which would be absorbed by-"
"Okay, fine, I don't need the details, sheesh…"
Astrid just rolled her eyes at him. The only reason he wanted a catapult was because she'd built a ballista on her house that had proven itself capable of firing heavy bolts well out to sea. He wasn't jealous of its strength, just the fact that it rose several palms higher than the roof of his own house.
"We came out here with a job to do," Astrid reminded them all. "The hunters are out there, the Furies say they've taken out a few of their boats already." The mentioned dragons perked, then jumped to their paws and trotted over.
"They not strong," Hiccup hummed, "we break many tree-things. But more come." He looked thoughtful, then glanced around the room. "I want thing here, for make marks. Show other small-lands, also where we see hunters."
"A map?" Fishlegs suggested. "Sure, we can think of something you can draw on."
Astrid huffed in amusement. Hiccup reminded her of his namesake… or, perhaps, his namesake had just been like him, like a dragon. Full of drive, passion, a desire to explore, to help, and just to do. He would have loved this. He also probably would have built an unstable dragon powered machine to do something or other and ended up setting them all back weeks of work.
But he was somewhere better now. "A map would be great," she agreed, "it'll help us keep track of the hunters, and you can fill it in as you explore. We'll take over your patrols of the area, you scope out targets, and we'll drive these hunters away." Really, this all seemed far too easy. The biggest worry she had was that these hunters would give up too quickly and they'd have built this base for nothing. But then in that case they'd just camp out for a year or so before flying back to Berk and telling everyone it had been really difficult.
"What are we gonna call it?" Tuffnut asked plainly as he sat up.
"…The map?" Fishlegs asked, confused.
"The base," Tuffnut drawled. "We need a good name for it, like 'The Frontier', something that we can sound proud of when explaining to our grandkids."
"Ehh, that's a little on the nose," Fishlegs said. "And you want something that people aren't going to have trouble spelling."
"Maybe that's the point," Ruffnut offered slyly. "If they can't spell it, our enemies won't be able to track us!"
"Something about dragons," Astrid offered in an attempt to bypass the inevitable argument they were headed into. "We ride dragons, and we're fighting dragon hunters. But this isn't the frontier of dragons, so something else."
"The Stronghold?" Snotlout suggested, though he largely went ignored.
They all sat in thoughtful silence for a while.
"Why need name?" Toothy asked, looking bored. "This our nest."
Astrid clicked her fingers. "Dragon's Nest!" she exclaimed, then waited for everyone to think about it a moment. "You know, because the hunters are going to be hunting for it."
"They'll sail out on hunts for the Nest," Tuffnut mused, nodding his head with a grin.
"I like it," Fishlegs agreed. "It helps that the dragons outnumber the riders, so technically it is closer to a nest than a village."
Hiccup crooned thoughtfully. "We only can say 'Nest', but it good name." He nudged Toothy. "We need new word." Toothy snorted a puff of smoke in his face in reply.
Ruffnut nodded too. "The inside of our hut looks like a nest too, so that works."
Astrid rubbed her head, not even wanting to know where the twins had got half their stuff from. All apparently useless junk, but where did one get a stuffed yak all the way out here? And so quickly?
"Dragon's Nest it is," she announced, ignoring Snotlout glaring at her. It was a majority vote, after all.
That was apparently the signal for everyone to go get some rest, as they all filed for the door; they'd all been working hard for a long time, and had been looking forward to just relaxing for a bit. Astrid herself wanted to take a dip in the lake. As cold as it was, she was enjoying the freedom to bathe however often and for as long as she wanted. Summer was going to be bliss…
"I see what you're doing," Snotlout said tersely, who she just noticed had not moved from his position at the table.
"Excuse me?" she responded acidly.
"Showing me up, taking control, well I ain't buying what you're selling."
"I didn't have to ask you to join us, and you didn't have to come." She stood and folded her arms, projecting her authority.
"Just like that," he sneered, jabbing a finger in her direction. "And you're talking like I had a choice. Well news flash, you're not the boss of us, and you're definitely not the boss of me."
"I'm not trying to be the boss. In case you've forgotten, we're following the Furies out here, if anyone is the boss it's them."
"Well you could'a fooled me!" he loudly shot back, throwing his arms out, then stormed for the door. "Maybe you should remember that yourself," he gritted as he disappeared.
She had no response for that. How should one respond to complete and utter childishness? She didn't need to get the last word in, she was better than that. It stung a bit though. A bath in the frigid lake was definitely sounding like a good idea.
(( J5X0hGtIEp4 ))
"Undefeated"