Dreamer seethed as he glided through the cool spring air, his breaths hissing in the back of his throat on the exhales as he glared down at the ship below. The ship hiding one who had severely wronged him, and who would not hesitate to end either Nightstriker.

He doubted the Lava Louts had set Dagur loose, which meant either he had broken himself out, or someone had broken him out. The latter seemed more likely, particularly given Viggo's expectant gaze in the moments before the dreadful reveal. But in the end, that didn't matter.

This was one Long-Paw he had no qualms killing; it wasn't so much that he deserved to die, just that it was the only way to ensure he didn't kill them first, and he would certainly do his very best to try. Dreamer wasn't willing to sink the boat and doom everyone on board to do it though, so they followed overhead, circling harbingers of death.

An island came into sight, and the ship reached it shortly before noon. He and Wanderer watched avidly for any opportunity, any sign of Dagur, but he had changed much in the nearly two years he had been imprisoned and was now indistinguishable from the other hunters at a distance; he had bulked out considerably, and added a number of tattoos, but they had fired so quickly they'd really only got a glimpse.

Long-Paws filed out of the ship, all wearing helmets and only Ryker easily recognisable by his bulk and the swords on his back. They all split up among the…

Dreamer growled in thought at the hunter camp they had come across. It was still being built, and quickly, many of the hunters rushing around in haste, but it looked near completion. The buildings were quite close to each other, and staggered to create jagged paths between them.

Even more confusing, the hunters fanning out through the camp were approaching the ones already on the island, and there were many arms waving around and a lot of general agitation spreading with them. Barrels, crates, and things of twisted wood were carted from the buildings – in some cases, it appeared that entire walls were removed to extricate them – and taken to the ships, either carried between two men or simply dragged.

He drifted a little lower as the ships were loaded up, noting they all had reinforced masts; not that it mattered, neither he nor Wanderer had any fire to spare. He also dared not get closer; letting blind arrows bounce off him in the dark was one thing, but a lucky shot would incapacitate him for up to a day if experience was anything to go by.

With the loading of the ships finished, they all departed – of course, all headed in different directions. Both Nightstrikers snarled, and Astrid groaned in frustration. They still had no idea which ship Dagur had boarded, and there was very little chance of picking the right one to follow.

So Dreamer waited until they had all reached a comfortable distance to sea, far enough they would not easily see him, and drifted down to the edge of the camp.

It was no less strange being in it than it had been looking at it from above, the streets feeling cramped and claustrophobic. It would continue in a straight line past only two or three buildings before being blocked by a solid wall, meaning he couldn't see very far in any direction at once. The wind blew firmly overhead, the only ambient noise, but inside the maze there was only a silent breeze.

The huts were also very roughly built, he noted as he looked inside one with a missing wall.

"What the Hel were they doing here?" Astrid asked, echoing his thoughts. Why had Viggo himself been coming here, with Dagur, and why had they all just packed up once they'd actually arrived?

Wanderer growled behind him. "I not like this," he said, glancing around warily.

"Me also," Dreamer growled back, then stretched out his wings. "I want go home." Wanderer chuffed a vehement agreement before leaping into the sky and out of the strange place.

Heather gently stroked Windshear's head as she held it, offering wordless reassurance to the slightly nervous dragon.

"Dear Odin, is there any part of this dragon that isn't lethal!?" Tuffnut asked enthusiastically, darting around her.

"Let's see," Ruffnut mused gleefully as she raced around just as fervidly, "wicked sharp talons, razor sharp tail-"

"From which she can throw spines like a Nadder," Fishlegs interjected from where he sat against the outer wall of the communal hut, sketched a drawing.

"And that!" Ruffnut agreed. "Plus blades all over her wings, poisonous bite-"

"That's 'venomous', actually," Fishlegs corrected absently.

"Whatever! A great big horn for stabbing things-"

Tuffnut shoved her out of the way to rub up against Windshear's side, pressing his face to the hard plates. "And as armoured as any dwarven warrior," he sighed. Suddenly, he lurched at Heather, grabbed her shoulders, and stared intently into her eyes. "Heather, I'm very sorry," he said solemnly, "but I have to marry your dragon."

Heather blinked at him. "What?" She couldn't think of any other words to say, her vocabulary inexplicably empty.

He spun around her and landed in front of Windshear, dropping to one knee. "Windshear Heathersdracken," he said dramatically, holding a hand up to the dragon, "will thou take me as thy loving husband?"

Windshear slowly backed up a step, staring uncertainly between him and Heather.

"I think that's a no," Ruffnut said observationally. "Sorry bro."

"Aw."

Heather chuckled incredulously, shaking her head. It was nice to be around people her own age, even if they were still uncomfortable with her, but she didn't think she would ever get used to this. It blew her mind that this was what they considered normal.

"Huh," Tuffnut huffed, peering into the distance. "Looks like Hiccup and Toothy are back."

There did indeed seem to be three distinct dots in the distant sky, if she squinted. "Astrid too," Heather added.

"Yeah but that's not as fun," he said dismissively. "She looked like she's gonna be moody for a while."

"Can you blame her?" Ruffnut replied. "How would you feel if we'd found a baby Zippleback head at that place?"

"Ugh, I don't even want to think about that."

"Exactly, cut her some slack."

"Well she didn't have to fly off and leave us there! I bet they blew up something without us, hogging all the fun."

Heather sighed. "It sounds like she just needs some space." Fishlegs had filled her in when he'd returned with Snotlout and the twins earlier in the morning. She actually didn't know where Snotlout was right now, and was surprised he wasn't here hitting on her.

Two of the distant shapes pulled ahead and reached the island in moments. One of them flew low into the base and vanished, while the other disappeared over the cliffs, heading onto the island itself.

"I'm going to find Snotlout," Heather announced, climbing into Windshear's saddle.

"Why?" Ruffnut asked suspiciously with a scowl.

"To keep him away from Astrid," she replied semi-truthfully.

"Amen to that," Tuffnut agreed firmly.

Heather glanced at Fishlegs before taking off, wondering why he was so quiet. He'd been very nervous as a teenager, clearly wanting her attention but unsure how to act around her. Now he seemed much more withdrawn, but it was difficult to tell if that was just how he was normally or if he was still angry with her; she knew he had been and likely still was very close to the Furies. More puzzles to unravel in this strange little group.

She doubted Snotlout would be in his hut, so he was likely on the island somewhere. She remembered an odd structure from when she'd been exploring in the days the riders had been raiding the 'processing island' as it was known among Viggo's men.

It was a simple raised wooden platform, a tree growing up out of the middle, a small cabin on one side, and a rail around the edge, all built very roughly, mostly out of slightly crooked branches and offcuts. She hadn't been able to work out what it was for. Seeing the crude dummies set up on it though, and Snotlout landing on Hookfang and quickly dispatching them, made it clear enough.

"A training ground," she said as Windshear flapped into a landing near the more pointed end of the platform, opposite the cabin. "Ah, of a ship," she added, making the connection now that she was seeing it from this perspective; the tree had thrown her off a bit. "Clever."

"It's great, right," Snotlout said, breathing heavily and wiping away sweat. "Hiccup put-... I mean, I'm in charge of the drills. Thought I'd come up with a few more."

So Hiccup had already tried broaching the issue of him and Astrid, she suspected. That was what she would have done, given them a measure of authority over each other in different circumstances; though Astrid seemed to make her own authority. "Not bad," she agreed, looking around. It seemed sturdy enough, and would have to be to have dragons romping around on it. Vikings built as tough as themselves, for sure.

"Want to go through a drill?" he offered, and he was actually being civil enough about it all that she nodded at him.

He quickly rearranged the dummies, then hopped onto Hookfang's neck and they both took to the sky. "Here's the plan," he said, looking for all the world that they were circling over a real ship full of hunters, "I'm going to go down and free the dragons, you hold them off for me!"

"Okay!" she shouted back, feeling nervous for some reason. She had little idea of what to expect as she followed him down.

He landed smoothly, and swiftly lifted a hatch she hadn't noticed to disappear into the 'hold', and Hookfang slithered in after him. Windshear landed a moment behind him, Heather leaped out of the saddle… and stood there awkwardly, clutching her axe in both hands. She was supposed to protect the hatch from… a bunch of straw dummies? She felt ridiculous.

"Clear!" Snotlout shouted after a short time, and Hookfang swiftly climbed back out with him in the saddle. He took one look at Heather and sighed, hopping down to the 'deck'. "No, no, no," he said, waving his hands. "You're protecting me from those guys, sure…" He then walked over to the cabin and pulled a dummy out from just inside. "But this guy would have come up behind you and either got down behind me, or taken you."

"So the more efficient defence would be to take these guys out, then defend the hatch from the cabin?" she asked.

"Sure, but-"

She adjusted her grip on her axe with a twist, separating the two heads to spin on the hinge in the haft, opening it to lock into its double-bladed form with one axe-head at each end of the now much longer handle. She walked between the three dummies as she did so, then spun with a shower of straw as her axe lashed out around her, cleaving through them in an instant. "Like that?" she asked, twirling the axe as she walked to stand between the hatch and the door.

"Uhhhhh…" Snotlout was staring at her, slack-jawed, though at least this time he was staring at her face. It took a long moment for him to blink and shake himself out of it. "Okay, first of all, wow. You have got to teach me how to do that. But secondly…" He grimaced behind her, and she glanced back at the straw-covered deck and maimed target dummies, one of which had fallen over. "If you actually do that, I'm pretty sure Hiccup's gonna kill you."

"...Oh, right, that," Heather mumbled, folding her axe.

"What you wanted to do was stand here." He walked around the still-open hatch, putting it between him and both the cabin and 'hunters'.

"But you can't attack them from over there," she said, demonstrating by walking from the cabin and waving her axe over the gap.

"Yeah but they can't hit you either." He demonstrated by waving his axe back at her. "But you can if they try to go inside. When I yell 'clear' you can then use your dragon to push them back, I climb out, we fly away."

That was… pretty clever, actually. "How was I supposed to figure all that out?" she said with a huff.

"You weren't," he replied with a shrug. "I just wanted to see how you would handle it." He looked thoughtfully at the dummies, and the straw-covered deck. "You know, we're both marrying age."

Heather staggered and nearly fell over, though she had been standing still. "What!?"

"I'm just saying," he said mildly. "Berk's a pretty sweet place to be, and you've already got your own dragon. Anywhere else would be constantly trying to get your secrets, trying to use them for war. Dad says we won't be doing that, and I have to agree." He stroked Hookfang's snout fondly, and the Nightmare rumbled back at him.

"But… I don't have any secrets," she said faintly, attacking the one point she could develop a coherent answer for.

"And they won't believe that," he replied levelly. "I've seen it. They don't see awesome, powerful friends. They see awesome, powerful weapons. She wouldn't be safe anywhere else."

Heather took a deep breath, recalling and utilising an old trick her mother had taught her. She focused on the faint wet smell of melting snow on the crisp spring air, felt the hard shaft of her axe and how it was warm and a little slick from her hand, focused on the weight of Windshear's old scales that she'd shaped and attached to her armguards, saw the grains of the wood of the ship, the small beads of sweat on Snotlout's face, and the trees in the forest around them.

Her mind calmed, and she returned to the moment. Her first reaction was to put his suggestion off with that she was too busy with the hunters to think about it, but this was extremely out of character for him. "You sound like you've thought this through." That was certainly part of why it was so weird…

Snotlout shrugged. "I think it'd work out great. Any Viking can see you'd make a great wife, and I'm not just any Viking. We'd make an amazing couple, the stuff of legends. Just think about it."

"This isn't like you," she pressed. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining! It's just…"

"Just I'm not being a jerk about it. Yeah, takes me a few times to learn something, apparently. I can't promise I won't be a jerk, but you've shown yourself capable of… teaching me." He scowled, clearly not happy with the way that was worded. "Or, hey, who even needs Berk? We could just roam the winds, you and I, our dragons, nobody to tell us what to do or who to be."

"I can't pretend that doesn't sound nice," she admitted, "but… this is very sudden. Last time you saw me, you were literally trying to kill me. So… why?"

He scowled at the ground with a sigh. "Never mind." He then hopped back into Hookfang's saddle and they were gone.

That was… a lot of information to unpack. Something was definitely going on with him, something none of the other riders knew about, clearly. The problem was, she couldn't think of any motivation that fit his actions. He wasn't the sort of person to change so drastically, if he was still lusting after her he would be back to his old ways; he had proven himself unchanged in that respect with the few comments he'd slipped her before leaving for their raid on Viggo's despicable island. She had nothing else he would want, other than maybe her dragon, but he'd not seemed all that interested in Windshear.

He should be well on his way to being Marshal like his father, if things were anything like they were when she'd left, but maybe that was something to do with it? He'd spoken of leaving Berk. Maybe he didn't want to be Marshal… But it was a role Vikings usually coveted, the one handling much of the strategic and peacekeeping elements of a tribe, only less prestigious and desirable than the role of Chief itself. Regardless, she couldn't see how marriage would affect it.

She let out a short, incredulous laugh. That had to be the worst marriage proposal ever, however apparently sincere. Actually, it was Snotlout, so it was very sincere, in a sense, though she would forever be suspicious of him being unfaithful.

This wasn't getting her anywhere, she needed more information… and she had a bit more time before she had to leave.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Dreamer stared at the Dragon Eye, absently twisting the dial around it and focusing on the sound echoing from inside. Tick, tick, tick, tick. There was not the slightest sign of wear from it being left under a rock halfway up the mountain, somewhere Heather would never find it in case she went looking, and everything still worked smoothly. Tick, tick, tick, tick.

With the knowledge that Dagur was out there, hunting him again, he was doubting his decision to have Heather reveal the Nest's location to Viggo. But that was just panic talking. And sleep deprivation. Dagur was a frightening warrior, but he could travel no faster than any other hunter. Even had Dagur sailed directly from the island with the strange hunter camp on it, he wouldn't reach Dragon's Edge for at least a few days.

Maybe he should scout anyway, just in case-

Dreamer growled and shook his head; there was caution, and there was paranoia. What he needed was information. He needed to know where Dagur was, find him, and end him. A pre-emptive strike. If they could catch him on a ship, there were several measures that could be taken to ensure they weren't trapped again, now that they had their fire.

He knew someone who could get information on the hunters.

Dreamer lurched to his paws, set the Dragon Eye aside, and stalked out of his den, spreading his wings to catch the wind and soar over the Nest. It was bright and sunny this light, though at the moment that just made him feel exposed. He growled to himself; his reaction to encountering Dagur was understandable, but he hated that it was affecting him so much.

Windshear wasn't outside any of the riders' huts, or where everyone had been fawning over her in front of the communal hut. Fishlegs was still there, but the others had flown off. Dreamer growled again, but then took a breath and forced himself to fly casually; there was no rush, and he was tired enough as it was.

Before long, heavy wingbeats sounded from the direction of the island, Snotlout and Hookfang approaching rapidly. "I'm going to scout!" Snotlout shouted as he passed, a look on his face that usually meant he was angry with himself about something. Wrrr, it was the best lead he had.

Indeed, as he winged over the island, he quickly spotted Heather standing with Windshear on the training deck. She seemed about to mount up, so he pumped his wings and hasted towards her, catching Windshear's attention who then alerted Heather.

He backwinged into a landing, kicking up a storm of straw that was all over the deck for some reason. "I need you find someone," he growled.

"Someone with hunters?" she asked.

Dreamer backed up with a short, startled growl. He hadn't expected her to answer in Dragonese, and it irked him for some reason he could not immediately identify. "Use Long-Paw words," he huffed.

"Oh… Forgot about that." She looked disappointed and a little hurt, but her opinion wasn't really his concern. "Someone with the hunters?" she repeated.

"Yes," he replied, more comfortable with her talking Norse. He'd think on that later. "When you take me, Wanderer," he said, unable to keep the growl out of his voice, "you give me to another Long-Paw."

"I-"

He growled off her objection before she could make it.

"...Dagur?"

"Yes. We caught him, put him somewhere he not could escape. But now he with hunters."

"Really?" Heather took her hand from Windshear's saddle to pinch her chin, looking thoughtful. "He shouldn't be difficult to track down. I can just say he's the only one who-... Well, I have an excuse. And apparently, I'm his sister, so it should be easy to-"

"What!?" Dreamer barked, startling her.

"Uh, yeah, I don't know… Alvin ransomed me to them to get me onto the island… Trying to get you, actually… Dagur seemed to buy it. After answering his questions for a while, I started to buy it too. I don't think Alvin could have made all that up."

Dreamer shook his head. "Your dam alive-"

"Until recently," she said sharply.

"...Yes. His dam die many cold-seasons past." Dreamer had apparently met Berghild, but he'd been too young to remember. He only knew she'd taken a small group against impossible odds, and somehow even succeeded, but died to her injuries upon returning to Berserk. It had changed Oswald, to the point he became known as 'the Agreeable' instead of 'the Antagonistic'.

"But… No, that doesn't make sense! Are you sure?" Dreamer nodded. "How do you even know that?" she asked sceptically, and he snorted at her. "No, you have to be wrong. Or…" She fidgeted with her mouth, pulling at it with her fingers while she turned some thought over in her mind. "Could I have been adopted?" she asked weakly.

"No," Dreamer huffed, "I scent that she your kin." He'd shared a boat with the both of them for days, and being a dragon he'd of course scented them. Direct relationships, those of siblings and parentage, weren't that difficult to infer.

"Can you smell if I'm his sister?"

Dreamer thought about it. He didn't have Dagur – or his corpse, as it would be – here to check against, but he remembered the scent clearly enough, as painful as it was to do so. The memory came with that of the metal bars, the hard floor of the cage against his claws, pressure on his tail-

"Maybe," he huffed, then reticently scented her proffered hand. Her scent reminded him of Berk, when he'd played with her there, though it was tainted by her later actions. "I not can smell him." Long-Paws were a bit tricky, but there was not so direct a relationship in their scents as to be siblings.

"All this time, I've been thinking… Just, a lot of stuff made sense, right? Like, the anger… Maybe it was just an excuse… I… need time to think…"

Windshear nuzzled her, and Dreamer really looked over the dragon for the first time. The general shape of her body was a little similar to that of a Nightstriker, long and lithe with four legs, but every part of her looked tough and dangerous. Rather than blending into the slightest shadow, her body gleamed like polished steel, covered with hard and stiff plates that smoothly overlapped to allow movement, and the ones down her long neck and tail were flared to sharp points. To his ears she sounded like an armoured Viking when she moved.

The only parts that didn't seem built for combat were her long and narrow snout, lacking the cheek muscles for bite strength, and what he could see past her wings of her rounded back and flanks.

She actually looked as if she was wearing a suit of armour, one covering her back and joints and extending over her neck and tail. He could almost imagine that under it, ignoring the long neck, she might look somewhat appealing...

...And that was a sure sign he needed to sleep. He tossed his head with a growl and took to the air, leaving Heather and Windshear behind.

"A pleasure as always, mistress Astrid. Oh, but before you go…"

Astrid stopped to take a breath before handing the crate to Tuffnut with a glare. "Don't touch, just carry," she warned him before turning back to Johann. "What's up?" She couldn't bring herself to sound chipper and lively, her bad mood had not abated even after a couple of days.

Johann unrolled a map across the rail of his ship, keeping the end partially furled to hold up the edges of the parchment. "It does not escape my notice that there are dragon hunters in the area, and that you ride dragons," he said, stating perhaps the most obvious things he possibly could have noticed. "Where is it… Ah, this area here," he used his finger to circle an area of ocean with a few islands in it, "is a veritable hotspot for hunter activity, I could not begin to count the number of ships I passed. I advise staying well away for the moment."

That actually looked fairly close to… "This island here," Astrid pointed to one of the three he'd encircled, "we were there a few days ago. There were a bunch of hunters but they just packed up and left."

The parchment slipped from the rail, and Johann just barely caught it before it dropped to the water below. "Ah, er, really? That is… a highly anomalous affair. Most peculiar. No matter, I bid you adieu!" Astrid then had to step back as he reached past her to unhook from the mooring, and then the gangway lifted to fit flush with the rail, closing the passage to his ship. He then hurried around to open the sail and push from the simple but sturdy dock, and was sailing in no time.

Astrid shrugged and jogged to the ladder leading up into the Nest, quickly clambering up it to where Hiccup and Stormfly waited. "All without a hitch," she reported as she reached the top, finding Stormfly sprawled out and Hiccup sat there stiffly. "He said he'd noticed something was up around that island we followed Viggo to. Still don't get that."

"Me also," Hiccup agreed. "What were they doing there…" He snorted and tossed his head. "Go tell other female he leaving. She can leave soon."

"Sure." Astrid stroked Stormfly's head, and her dragon chirruped happily before rolling to her paws and offering the saddle.

The joys of flight were not enough to completely put the tiny little Nadder quill from her mind, but they did distance it a little. Still, she couldn't help but think that little Nadder should be up here too, flying with their dam…

She hated that she had committed to non-lethal tactics, she'd love nothing more than to tear the hunters responsible apart; it had been difficult to resist having Stormfly burn their ship as they'd departed. But she had to admit that, despite the moment, it had been terrifying seeing the Furies react to Dagur. She understood why they didn't want to be known for their namesake, they'd be specifically hunted to extinction for being that dangerous.

And just like that, Stormfly was landing by the lake, and Astrid didn't really feel any better for the flight. "Hey Heather," she called out flatly, seeing her sitting against a tree.

"Hiya," Heather called back casually as she watched Windshear play in the water.

Stormfly clucked excitedly, nudging Astrid's side. "All right, you can play too," Astrid chuckled, then removed the saddle and lay it on a patch of grass where the snow had melted. The Nadder immediately charged into the water and bowled over Windshear, and the two dragons rolled and tussled in the shallows. "They seem to get along," Astrid observed as she sat near the other girl, propping her arms on her knee.

"Most dragons do," Heather replied, looking a bit distant. "Except the few types that don't, of course. Speed Stingers, Changewings, Whispering Deaths, etcetera."

"Speed Stingers, we've had," Astrid replied, feeling a bit distant herself, and then they sat in silence for a little while, just watching the dragons play.

"Can I ask you something?" Heather asked.

"Shoot."

"What's up with you and Snotlout?"

"I wish I knew," Astrid groaned, dropping her forehead onto her arm. "It's like he woke up and remembered the huge feud between our families, and decided to make my life Hel. I don't even know why he's still here."

"Wait, why are you all here?"

"The Furies wanted to stop the dragon hunters. We thought it'd be a good way to get some life experience, so we came along, and it has been. It hasn't even been a year, but it feels like five."

"Striking out on your own can be a bit like that," Heather replied quietly. "But you really don't know why he tries to wind you up?"

"Well, I might have beat him pretty soundly at Thawfest a year ago," Astrid admitted. "We have these games we play with the thaw, and the Jorgensons had won every year for centuries. I was the first to take that from them, he probably holds it against me. He brought it up when I asked, too."

"He'd have to be pretty shallow to hold on to that for this long."

"Have you met him? He's not shallow, he's halfway up the beach."

"I see your point," Heather chuckled. "Still, he seems to get to you more than he used to."

Astrid sighed, inexplicably feeling very heavy and tired. "I don't know… Stoick's training me to be Chief, and Spitelout's training him to be Marshal. We're supposed to work together, he's supposed to be my right hand in leading the village, but how is he supposed to do that when he's… so… Snotlout? He acts like a rebellious kid, disobeying me at every turn and generally playing up. I can't work with that, I need someone dependable, but who else is there? Tuffnut? I know Snotlout, and he has the background, if he could just do as he's told it'd be a lot easier than trying to work with anyone else."

"Ah, I see…" They watched the two dragons flame the water under themselves, then drop into it with hilariously contented looks on their faces. "What about… us?" she asked quietly.

"Us?"

"Are we friends?"

Astrid had to think about that one, and took a long time to answer. "I don't know," she replied. "I want to hate you for what you did, but I can't say I did any better when put into the same place. I kept telling myself I didn't have a choice, but now I realise you told yourself that too. I'm so confused, and looking at you reminds me of what you did, which reminds me of what I did…"

"From what I understand, there's a way Vikings handle this," Heather mused, then lifted her axe from her back and waved it. A bizarre thing, it looked made from Windshear's scales or plates or whatever, mounted on an iron handle.

"...Yeah, I think beating you senseless might help a bit," Astrid said with a grin, feeling a bit more down to Midgard; if it was already helping, a fight should definitely help to clear her head.

"I don't think you'll find it so easy this time," Heather said challengingly, standing and holding her axe out behind her.

Astrid snorted and rose to her feet, also drawing her axe. "We'll see." That stance was far too open, no way she could block-

As she lunged forwards, Heather also stepped forward and simply pushed her arms aside, and Astrid felt the flat of the strange axe tap her on the back as they passed each other.

"Lucky hit," she gritted, adjusting her grip on her axe and flexing her stiff muscles.

Heather just smiled back at her. "Best of three?"

"You're on!" Astrid stepped forwards again, swinging her axe in an uppercut, something Heather wouldn't be able to avoid in the same way. As expected, she had to swing her axe down to block it, and while it did halt Astrid's attack it was knocked right back and almost spun Heather around with it. Astrid grinned, putting her weight behind her axe to push it forward-

Then stopped in her tracks as Heather's axe appeared around the other side of her, at an odd angle, far too quickly and reaching much further than should be possible. Astrid could only stare at it, held inches from her stomach. "What?"

Heather laughed, her back still mostly to Astrid and the blade protruding from under her arm. "That one only works once." She then turned back to Astrid, revealing the axe was now double-bladed with twice as long a handle. "Once is usually all you need though." She did something, and it folded at the halfway point to become a regular axe again. "Best of five?" she offered with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, you are on!"

This had to be the most boring job in the entire Dragon Hunter fleet…

It wasn't that Ulf was ungrateful. Berserk had gone to Hel after Dagur had got his crazy head kicked in, and on the back of that cursed Skrill at that. They had made an awe-inspiring sight, the pair of them, two abominations, but then he'd sailed off with only a handful of warriors to relish in the fight.

No, it was just that, like any Berserker, he hated the downtime between conquests, and this time was so far down it hit the bottom of the well. All he had to do was sit there in the light of a single torch and listen to the dozens of dragons fidget.

He wasn't even sure why he was there, it wasn't as if the beasts were going anywhere. Well, they were going somewhere all right, being in the bowels of a ship, but that was where the Hunters wanted them to go.

Ulf groaned to himself and stood from the plank attached to the wall that counted as a chair, briefly stretched, then dropped to the ground to do push-ups. There was little else to do, but it was getting boring. He wanted to kill something, trapping dragons was a fun challenge but he longed for the simplicity of just burying his axe in a Nadder's neck… Or particularly one of those Night Furies, Viggo wouldn't like it, but it would put any Berserker in the running for becoming the next Chief.

He lost count of his push-ups somewhere after four, but who counted anyway. What mattered was the result-

Something caught his attention, and he froze with his chest to the floor, looking around. He had… felt a presence nearby, something closer than the nearest cage. There was no other way to explain it, the ship echoed with the sounds of the water against the hull and the dragons sleeping and occasionally pawing at or chewing the bars, and there had been nothing louder than any of that.

It was probably nothing. Just getting so bored out of his mind he was seeing fights that weren't there, his Berserker blood crying out for battle. He shrugged and resumed his exercises.

One, two, three, four… and more than that.

Without any warning, the hold plunged into darkness. Great. First ghosts, now a lousy torch. It was spooky that it had gone out after feeling a weird presence, but the dragons were still calm. That meant there was nothing weird going on, as they could see much better in the dark.

Though, this darkness was stifling, he couldn't even see the open hatch. Must be a cloudy night, just his luck.

Totally blind, he felt his way to the nearest cage and gingerly ran his hand along it as he walked, wary of losing a finger to the occupants. The Nightmare oil, flint and steel, and spare torches were on a crate in a gap between cages halfway down the ship, the easiest place to find wherever the guard happened to be in this exact situation. Ulf didn't see why they couldn't have a second set by the seat, but it wasn't up to him.

His hand found the edge of the cages and he followed it around, feeling for the crate. It… wasn't there? He could find nothing but air. Thinking he misjudged it, he kept walking, eventually finding wood… Except, feeling up for the top of the crate, his hands just kept reaching higher, finding more wood. This wasn't a crate, it was a wall. How had he done that?

A cage behind him creaked ominously, and he felt a rising dread. Ghosts, draugr, whatever, something was messing with him. He turned and felt his way back to the main corridor, finding the cage bars sooner than he expected. He would just climb out and borrow a torch from the deck, it wasn't as if they were using them.

Following the cages along, he walked straight into the bars of another cage. Now he was confused. He must have got totally turned around somewhere… Were the dragons making more noise now? He could hear the clicking of their claws, the clacking of their teeth. It seemed no louder than before… Something was messing with him.

But he wouldn't be the one to cry out for help because he'd got lost in the dark; that was just asking to be put on this job for the rest of his life, which would be the four days or so it'd take him to snap and attack someone.

He ran face-first into another wall, this one made of wood. This wasn't right. He'd just follow it around until it led somewhere, that was a plan. He'd just keep looking up for the hatch, and follow the wall until he reached it.

Another wall… He began counting them as he ran into them. One... Two… Three… Four… More.

"Intruders!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, the first thing that came to mind, splitting the silence. Actually, that was pretty smart, he could play it off that he thought he'd heard something, that the torch had been sabotaged.

His jubilance was short-lived, as an explosion that felt like a punch to the chest literally deafened him a few moments later, and the ship seemingly started spinning in every direction. He dropped to his knees, oblivious to anything else going on around him, and clutched at his aching ears, which felt as if they were full of water.

A loud racket had him lift his head, and he noticed there was light. Dazed, he looked around, finding himself inside one of the cages. All the others were open, and the dragons were missing. Someone was standing on the other side of the bars, banging on them with their axe. They then rolled their eyes and left him there.

Ulf slumped; he was never going to live this down.

Wanderer pawed at his ears, a very awkward action while flying but better than trying to ignore the dull ache in his skull. Dreamer was more focused, but the way he kept shaking his head betrayed his discomfort. "I not know why my fire do that," Wanderer said loudly.

"I think maybe that happen when inside," Dreamer shouted back, just audible over the deep growling in Wanderer's ears. "That happen before also. Explosion not can go anywhere. Go inside us? I try things later."

As long as that meant it wouldn't happen again. Wanderer growled and vigorously shook his head, then focused on all the escaping wing-hunters, pawfuls of pawfuls of them. The pain in his head was abating, anyway.

They resumed their flight towards the new small-land, one Dreamer suspected the hunter alpha of pointing him to for some reason. It was Dreamer-thinking, something Wanderer could not understand and did not care to. As long as it took Dreamer's mind off the horrible small-land they had last visited. Although, trapping the hunter in one of their own cages had been amusing to the both of them, how it had walked around it in circles for so long. Just long enough to open all the cages, telling the wing-hunters inside to be quiet.

"That Long-Paw," he chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood as they set their pace, but Dreamer just rumbled back noncommittally. Wanderer sighed. "You thinking you should killed him?"

"Hunters not stop hunting. You hear what Long-Paw female say. Hunter alpha kill, trap many dragons. I not know…"

"I go back, kill them if you want," Wanderer offered. He wasn't opposed to it, but he knew Dreamer wouldn't be able to himself.

"No," Dreamer said with a huff. "We try all other things first. Maybe Defenders can help. I need go there soon, talk."

More boring thinking-things then. Wanderer yawned just at the thought of it. This wasn't how he had been expecting to spend his new time as a fireling, though he didn't mind; they were doing good things, however boring they occasionally became, and they would be firelings many times again in the future. As long as they found mates before they started rutting, he had no desire to repeat that experience.

Such thoughts had been on his mind more often of late, though without any real wind behind them. Being able to think of females at all was refreshing, not being subjected to the intense craving that used to follow.

He shook his head again, putting such thoughts from his mind. They had much time to roam and enjoy their freedom, finding female Nightstrikers could come later.

What they were finding now appeared to be another hunter ship. "What they all doing?" Dreamer growled, and Wanderer hummed in reply.

This was the third large ship they had seen, which was unusual, particularly so close to the Nightstrikers' territory. They were skirting around it, but Dreamer had spotted the first in the distance, which had shortly led to the second, and now this one. "I not have much fire left," Wanderer huffed.

"We follow this ship," Dreamer growled, angling up to slow down. Wanderer followed, resigned to lights of boring flying in circles. It was good the Long-Paws moved so slowly, but in these cases he wished they weren't quite so slow.

Three nights. It had taken three nights of tedious flying, managing their sleeping – alone, so one of them could watch the ship – and hopping between small-lands for water and rest. All the while they had to be careful to stay out of sight of the hunters, and make sure they did not lose the ship to the fog that frequently came with the kindling of the sky-fire.

Wanderer sighed a groan of relief as the other nest-kin appeared in the distant sky, Dreamer with Storm-Fly, Bent-Tooth, the Rock-Scale, and the Two-Head, and angled around to meet them. He flew directly at Dreamer as they neared, forcing him to sharply angle away from the outstretched claws, partly out of playfulness and partly out of irritation. At least he had Storm-Fly and maybe the other wing-hunters to play with now.

Dreamer huffed at him, then tossed his head. "Ship still coming?" he asked.

"Yes," Wanderer chuffed, falling in beside him. "Still coming. Still slow."

"Good. I think I know where they going." With that, he angled south and set a moderate pace, what they usually flew with the other wing-hunters who were not as fast as Nightstrikers.

Wrrr, at least they were not following a ship. That was boring.

They flew high, just above the clouds, occasionally ducking down to look for ships and check their course. There were more and more ships as they flew, so it was not difficult to locate the small-land they were all converging on.

A large number of ships were already floating around the small-land, the similar hunter ships all huddled around the east side and a bewildering variety of ships huddled around the south. There were all sorts of different shapes and sizes, some with pointy triangular wings and others with two bodies. Some were only about as long as he was, from nose to tail-fins, and one was even larger than the hunters' ships.

"How are we gonna get down there?" Astrid asked, leaning to the side to look down below.

"Hunter alpha maybe know we come," Dreamer barked. "We should try not be seen."

"It nearly night," Wanderer huffed, glancing towards the falling sky-fire. "Then can fly down, not be seen." Long-Paws were blind in the dark; all except one, apparently, but he wasn't a Long-Paw anymore.

"We're good until then," Fish-Legs called out, "as long as we don't jump straight into any big fights."

"Good," Dreamer chuffed. "Watch small-land for things. Find places we maybe want check when can go down."

Wanderer let himself drift a little from the others, just letting the wind carry him and watching below. He was a bit of an odd one out, being much less familiar with Long-Paws than the others, but he could spot those with claws and where they were gathered.

There were a large number of Long-Paws without claws, often wearing brightly coloured and very loose not-skins that sometimes looked a little bit like folded wings. It was very different to what he was used to seeing, so he paid heed to where they went, noting they mostly seemed confined to a certain section of the hunter nest; a slice of it leading from where the strange not-hunter ships were attached to the small-land.

And even as the sky-fire sank into the sea, more and more ships arrived. The hunter ships seemed to come and go regularly, but very few of the varied ones left.

Finally, as the embers faded from the sky, the light faded enough that even his eyes could not make out defined shapes at this distance, and he gave up. Mmrrr, it felt so good to close his eyes…

"I think we can land now," Dreamer hummed, drifting over to him, and Wanderer simply let gravity take him. If it had felt good to close his eyes, folding his wings was bliss… He doubted he'd be able to sleep on the small-land below, as hostile as it was likely to be, but he was definitely looking forward to resting for a while.

Freefalling did mean he needed to slow down again, which pained his wings, but then he was landing on cool, hard rock, a ledge partway up the low mountain. He immediately collapsed with a groan, letting his wings splay out and relishing in the cool stone. Danger or no, he might sleep regardless – the other wing-hunters landing nearby barely roused him.

He paid no attention to the sounds around him, just Long-Paws stretching and talking, but cracked an eye open at a huff of air blowing over his head. Dreamer stood next to him, big green eyes narrowed. "Lazywings," he huffed. "We should go see what hunters doing."

Wanderer lifted his head to look at his friend-mate. Dreamer's ears were resting against his neck, his frills and wings were drooping a little, and his eyes were a little slow to follow. He looked just as Wanderer felt himself; exhausted.

"Maybe," Wanderer said with a yawn, then stood, stretched a little, and hooked a paw over Dreamer's neck to pull him to the ground. Dreamer growled in annoyance, but Wanderer had already grabbed his flank and around his neck. "I tired," he purred, nuzzling between Dreamer's ears, "you tired also. You not can fight hunters now." And there was no way either of them was alert enough to sneak into a hunter nest without being seen.

"We need go now," Dreamer growled, continuing to struggle, but Wanderer held to him firmly; if he couldn't even get out of this grapple, he definitely needed rest.

"Looks like we're taking a break," Astrid chuckled, then rummaged in some of the prey-skins on Storm-Fly and passed around some food. Fish-Legs additionally pulled out a pair of big fish and lay them by the Nightstrikers, which were somewhat awkwardly devoured in moments. Not quite enough, but hunger would sharpen their senses when they did go sneaking around.

Wanderer's eyes cracked open in tired blinks, and he pulled his paws closer to himself. They reached his belly, which seemed strange for some reason. That wasn't right… Yes, there was supposed to be something there. He reached out for that thing, feeling only cool rock and groggy confusion.

The blurs slowly solidified into coherent shapes, and he lifted his head to see Dreamer sat not far away, his back to him. Wanderer yawned widely, then licked his wrist to clean his face with, helping to clear the fog from his mind. He wasn't completely rested, but enough for now.

"You sleep?" he asked Dreamer, padding up beside him, and Dreamer responded with a mild hum. He looked better, at least, more alert. Wanderer gave his face a few licks just to be sure. "We hunt now?"

"We hunt," Dreamer agreed, then looked to the Long-Paws.

Only Snotlout was awake, keeping watch. "Go on," he said, "you guys'll be faster without us. We'll catch up." The others weren't even sleeping, as they roused at just that. Dreamer nodded at him and prowled off, towards the hunter nest, and Wanderer followed.

The sky-sparks indicated he hadn't been sleeping for long, it wasn't even halfway through the night yet. The Long-Paws were even still active, he could hear the bustle the moment he rounded a boulder and the nest came into view. Some of it was very brightly lit, even more so than most hunter nests, providing very few shadows to hide in. They wouldn't be able to investigate those areas, the ones that the strange loose-not-skin Long-Paws roamed in.

They instead made their way towards the hunter ships, to observe what was going on there. There were fire sticks, and guards, but they were Nightstrikers in their element and passed them by with ease. They passed through patches of rocks, trees, and dens, finding where the wing-hunters were being dragged onto the small-land and following them to where they were being kept.

Wherever they went, the air stank of wing-hunters, and in more ways than just lots of them in the same place. At least it didn't smell of festering and rot, but it would not take long to reach it.

When they reached a forest of squat, square things covered in not-skins, they could go no further. The area teemed with hunters, to the point he could smell them even through the other stench, all holding bent sticks for throwing claws. In addition to the many guards roaming around and through the area, more hunters stood on raised tree-things and looked down over everything, and they all looked alert and wary.

"I know that Long-Paw," Dreamer growled quietly, and Wanderer followed his gaze. A particular Long-Paw saw a group of hunters into the area, then met another lot who were dragging more wing-hunters in cages.

That was what all these shapes were, Wanderer realised, cages covered in not-skins. Pawfuls of pawfuls of pawfuls of them. In his awe and anger, he nearly missed the interaction of the one Dreamer had pointed out.

It was looking at the wing-hunters that had been brought to it, inspecting them as if deciding which was better eating. It then spoke tersely to the hunters and they dragged their cages into the nightmarish place.

"I see him before, at egg-nest," Dreamer continued, staring at the Long-Paw.

Wanderer didn't know what that meant, but it couldn't be good. He didn't like that the hunters had been anywhere near that place, with so many vulnerable young.

They crept closer, using the scattered trees and low boulders for cover, moving slowly through the shadows until they could hear talking.

"It's a – wing, I'm telling ya," one of the latest group of hunters was saying. "Put it up for –, it'll make some nice gold!"

"It ain't," the apparently important Long-Paw growled back. "Jus' a big Nadder. Got a dozen jus' as big, an' more even bigger. Now go put it in…"

"What that hunter say?" Wanderer asked while the hunter seemed to give directions.

"Hrrr, very-big-wing dragon, like warm-nest alpha," Dreamer whispered back. "They want… rrmm, ask many Long-Paws how much shiny-metal they have. Give to Long-Paw with most shiny-metal."

That sounded complicated. Wanderer decided he didn't want to know. He would let Dreamer do his thinking, and watch out for threats.

Once Dreamer had heard enough, they crept away again and prowled around what they could reach of the nest. Wanderer put all his attention to just watching for hunters, not even listening to what they were saying so that he could focus on the sound of their footsteps as they roamed the nest. It saved them from detection more than once, when hunters happened to wander nearby.

They listened to more hunters talking, then Dreamer found a small not-skin with word-markings on it and decided to go back to the others. The nest was calming down anyway, the strange Long-Paws suddenly becoming less frequent and the hunters ceasing their conversations. They crept out of the nest without incident and then raced through the small forest to where they had landed earlier in the night.

The Long-Paw-nest-kin were already there, the smell-alikes even asleep. "There you are," Astrid said in relief, happy.

"Yes," Dreamer huffed. "You find something?"

"Not much," she said sadly. "They have a lot of dragons, but we're not even getting close to them. We'd need to take out twenty hunters each just to give them a chance to fly away."

"They maybe not can fly," Wanderer reminded them. "Maybe weak from hunger. Maybe not stretch wings for long time."

"I hate to say it," Snotlout growled, "but I don't see a way to pull this one off. There's too many of them."

"I find thing," Dreamer warbled, and revealed the not-skin pinned between his wing and side; a very odd way of carrying something, maybe it tasted bad? Astrid hurried to take it, while Snotlout hesitated then pretended not to be interested. Wanderer rolled his eyes.

She and Dreamer fussed over it for a little while, and Wanderer lost interest. The important thing was his Dreamer had that look that meant he had a plan.

Author's Notes

I was recently looking into reptile reproduction to see if certain things made sense (more for general understanding than my own planning), and I discovered that female snakes can actually produce genetically identical offspring of themselves without needing a mate. I honestly hadn't considered the founding premise of this story might have any real grounding in reality, so that was pretty cool.