The air quickened against Dreamer's streamlined body as he folded his wings and dove, and he roared his elation to be back at Dragon's Nest.
A roar drifted up in reply, and he spotted Hookfang outside the communal hut. Snotlout was clearly there, probably not on his own, so that was where he aimed his descent. Wanderer of course dove with him, but it was a surprise to see Fishlegs just about keeping up; he must be excited about the two new lenses they'd found.
Which was important. First he'd catch up with everyone, tell them the plan for the raid with the Defenders, then have a quick look at these lenses before leaving them with Fishlegs to pick through.
He flared his wings and alighted outside the communal hut, purred at Hookfang while he politely waited for Fishlegs to catch up a bit, then nosed the partially-open door up to walk inside-
A rough sliding noise had him look up right as dozens of fish fell from the ceiling, the limp creatures bouncing off his head and body, piling around him and burying his legs.
"Loki'd!" a pair of voices shouted jovially. Dreamer cracked an eye open, seeing Astrid, Snotlout, and the twins staring at him, waiting for a reaction. But he didn't know how to react to it. He probably looked surprised and confused, exactly as Wanderer did, who stood partially buried next to him.
Wanderer then lowered himself into the pile, almost entirely disappearing into the fish, and Dreamer, unsure how to react, watched him blankly. There was movement, fish sliding off to reveal a wing, the dark body pulling forward briefly…
His friend stood up again, and Dreamer lost it. Wanderer had at least six fish in his mouth, and the biggest, goofiest grin Dreamer had seen on him in a long time. One of the fish started sliding loose, despite Wanderer's efforts to get it sliding the other way.
"We did not think this through," Tuffnut said flatly.
"No we did not," Ruffnut agreed as Dreamer started snapping up fish himself. They weren't exactly fresh from the water but they were hardly old, and this saved them having to find their own meal, which was appreciated after the long flight they'd just undertaken.
"Did you guys seriously think burying a dragon in fish was a prank?" Snotlout laughed.
"To be fair," Tuffnut said mildly, "most people would hate that."
"A dragon," Snotlout repeated, drawing out the word.
Dreamer sighed loudly and contentedly, suddenly feeling lethargic with his belly full of fish. They'd eaten half of it all, and certainly wouldn't need to eat again tomorrow morning. Maybe in the afternoon, if they were very active. "Thank you," he purred heartily at the twins, grinning toothily.
"I go sleep," Wanderer groaned, looking regretful for having eaten so much and yet eyeing the remaining fish all the same.
"I come soon," Dreamer promised, then watched his friend flap away. It was already late afternoon, and this way they would be up early. "We flew to Defenders this light," he explained to the group.
"The Defenders?" Astrid asked. "They got something for us?"
"Yeah," Fishlegs said, sidling around the scattered remains of the fish pile to walk into the room. "That island just north of them that Viggo's set up on is giving them grief. They need our help taking it."
Snotlout huffed. "Won't Viggo just take it back?"
"They're going to up their patrols, not let the hunters get so entrenched again," Fishlegs explained. "Our job basically boils down to taking out the long-range defences and running interference. Nothing we're not used to doing."
Astrid holstered her axe, which she had been fidgeting with. "We'll catch up on that tomorrow, Fish. For now, go grab some vegetables and I'll start dinner." A shudder ran through the rest of the riders, which she either didn't notice or pretended not to. What a pity the Nightstrikers preferred raw fish…
"We look at Dragon Eye after," Dreamer hummed to Fishlegs.
"Oh yeah, we found two more Dragon Eye lenses!" Fishlegs added excitedly, pulling them out and holding them up. "We'll be looking them over while you… cook."
Dreamer turned and stepped over the remaining fish – the twins would take care of those, if they didn't want to get bitten – to head back outside, and he and Fishlegs winged over to his hut. Fishlegs refused to set up a lens before getting the vegetables, citing that he wouldn't be able to resist sticking around for a bit, and left Dreamer to fumble with it himself. He had the old one out, and almost had the new one in by the time Fishlegs returned.
The first lens was… nothing.
"Aw man, another one?" Fishlegs complained, resorting to randomly pushing buttons and twisting the dial around it to no effect. Dreamer hummed curiously and shut off his fire to inspect the device and the lens, it was definitely seated properly and he was starting to become familiar enough with the settings to tell they should have found something by now.
But he had to wonder why some lenses just refused to work with Nightstriker fire when the rest were perfectly fine. Maybe they were damaged?
Fishlegs sighed and swapped it for the other new lens, setting it up on its little stand again for Dreamer to light his fire behind, and very quickly they had the image of a Changewing on the wall. "Well that's no surprise I guess," Fishlegs said with curiosity, excitement. He walked up to the image to run his hand along it. "Huh… There are some weird differences here…" He hurried back to press a button on the Dragon Eye, and the image changed slightly, the Changewing consisting of different patterns with different shapes around it. "This bit here," he pointed at a circle with a line partially drawn around it, "that line is normally much longer for other dragons. And this symbol," he pointed to something that looked like a teardrop, "is normally clear, not grainy."
"What that mean?" Dreamer asked, revelling in being able to talk while holding his fire; it felt almost like trying to breathe underwater, a tall, instinctual barrier that he'd only needed confidence to step over.
"I'm not sure," Fishlegs said thoughtfully, staring at the image. "It doesn't help that we don't know anything about them. Though, this section," he gestured around the circle he'd pointed out a moment ago, "tends to refer to development, I think. This could refer to an egg, and maybe the temperature it needs to stay at. That would make sense if those were eggs you found. Or it might be how long they take to hatch. Or something else entirely."
Dreamer just stared at everything, absorbing the raw information. Most of it they couldn't even guess the meaning of, everything in various levels of consistency with the other lenses. Some things were always different anyway, some different that were usually consistent, some parts were missing entirely, while others were completely new.
"I make light-thing," Dreamer eventually decided, shutting off his fire and working his aching throat. It was now darker than he'd realised, which of course was no issue for him, though he lit his mouth again so Fishlegs could more easily light a candle.
Fishlegs took the wonky little cup Dreamer had made and struck it against his desk, then tipped out the fine powder its contents had been reduced to. The fine powdered glass wasn't nearly as good for making a new torch, but Fishlegs had a supply of sand for exactly this reason, and with a dribble of plasma, he was all set to be learning all night.
Dreamer should be similarly enthusiastic… but he just couldn't focus anymore. His paws kept trying to drift out from under him, even while he sat on his haunches, and the markings were all starting to look the same.
He barked a weary goodbye, stepped outside, and walked off the cliff. He had to labour a bit for height, as there were no updrafts and the wind was calm and still, and then he was landing in his den.
After a brief stretch, he padded into their sleeping chamber and smiled at Wanderer, curled up and snoring. Dreamer settled in next to him, intending to think over some of the things they'd found on the new lens, but his eyes drifted closed of their own accord…
After seemingly only minutes of rest, sharp teeth biting into a sensitive ear yanked Dreamer from sleep. He yelped and pulled back, rolling to wearily swat at the evil thing trying to wake him, but firm and wet gums clamped down on his muzzle and shook his head a bit. He was briefly tempted to fire a small shot down Wanderer's throat for this obnoxious wake-up.
But he had promised, so he rolled to his paws with a groan and gave himself a shake – noticing that it wasn't even dawn yet, the den was still dark and lit only by the monotone glow of the night sky. "Why," he groaned.
"I want hunt," Wanderer growled eagerly, kneading the rock.
"We not need eat," Dreamer huffed; he was still full from the twins' fish, and Wanderer had eaten more.
Wanderer snorted. "I want hunt," he repeated, eyes narrowed and a feral grin across his face. "...I think this will be quick hunt," he mused-
Dreamer belatedly caught his meaning, and his claws scrabbled for purchase on the smooth rock as he fled. Emerging into the main chamber of their den, he remembered to use more pads and less claws in the sharp turn to the exit, then leaped out into the sky and frantically worked his wings. He didn't know what would happen if Wanderer caught him, and had little interest in finding out first-hand; no doubt he had something unpleasant in mind. He'd only made two strokes of his wings when his ears picked up the sound of pursuit behind him, spurring him on.
It was a startlingly clear night, the half-sky-ice casting a gentle light over the sea and the island behind him, and the cool air was invigorating, washing away his fatigue and lethargy. They could stay up during the day, but his body knew he belonged in the night.
The wind whisked him around the island, and once sufficient distance from the Nest, he shaped his sub-wings to produce his sound-sight; there was already no hiding from the Nightstriker on his tail. A blurry, indistinct shape became visible behind him, which started straining to catch up.
Wanderer was a stronger flier, always had been and likely always would be, so remaining in the air was not smart. But Wanderer was angled to cut him off if he turned for the island…
But that was what play hunts were for! Dreamer rolled in the air and then suddenly pivoted for the nearest forest, watching the smudge behind him resolve itself into the shape of a Nightstriker as it veered over. He was forced to pull up, and they looped and flipped around each other in a delicate dance of speed and height.
He saw an opening and seized it, dropping a wing to duck under Wanderer and towards the island, and claws skimmed the tip of his tail. The treeline beckoned, its regular obstacles offering some small safety, and he powered towards it, pushing his wings for speed.
The forest rushed towards him, and he stretched out his legs in preparation to land-
A weight fell onto his back and pinned his wings, and he shrieked as he dropped the few feet to the short grass right as the cliff rushed past, going much too fast and with no control. He hit the ground and tumbled, losing track of whether Wanderer was still holding onto him, and then yelped as his momentum was suddenly arrested by something hard and immovable impacting his back.
He slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. Play hunting wasn't usually this rough, he was sure, though the pain was fading quickly. Something sharp prodded him in the belly, and he kicked at it blindly before rolling to his chest with a groan.
"Should used sound-sight," Wanderer hummed. "Always know where hunter."
"I forgot," Dreamer huffed, then pushed himself to his paws, suppressing a whine. One of his back-spines felt as if it had broken off, but when he craned around to look, he couldn't see anything different about it; still very tender though. "Hrrr, sky-fire not kindle yet. Want swim?" He wanted their next game to be a little less strenuous.
Wanderer chuffed and turned to hop off the cliff, dropping down out of sight and then soaring up on the wind. Dreamer stretched and then followed, wings a little sore from the crash but still holding him easily. Really, the two long appendages were the most fragile part of him, but they managed to stay out of the way surprisingly well.
As he followed Wanderer's tail inland, he was struck by a strong and inexplicable urge to relieve himself over the forest. The thought made him nervously excited, which only lent more confusion. That was gross, why was he thinking about it? Going out over the sea was cleaner – he'd been in too much of a rush earlier – or against a tree otherwise.
He couldn't put the urge from his mind as they glided to the lake. It was so, so tempting… But he had never seen Wanderer do anything of the sort. He'd just follow his friend's lead; he certainly wasn't going to ask about it.
They swooped down to the lake, and Dreamer ducked into the nearby trees to remove further temptation. The buzz remained, however, leading him to race back to the lake, leap past Wanderer in the shallows, and crash into the water with a big splash. It was chill, but felt glorious in how it caressed his body as he weaved through it; he would be purring were he not holding his breath.
The bottom of the lake was deep and dark, the lakebed and regular underwater plants dropping off rapidly out of sight. During the day they could see further, and even the bottom by swimming down a little, but while he knew the lake was empty of anything other than water there was an ominous feeling to it. And an odd feeling of height, though he was floating, that gave him a dizzying sense of endlessly falling.
A smooth body brushed up against him, his friend weaving around him, and Dreamer grabbed for him. Wanderer's smooth scales offered no purchase and he slipped away, but Dreamer was the hunter now! He rushed after him, falling behind in the straight shot across the lake but making up for it at the other end where Wanderer ran out of places to go.
Remembering Wanderer hunting him in the sky, he prioritised trapping Wanderer against the bank of the lake, slowly hemming him in, and lunged when he made a break for it. He held onto the slippery flanks, hooking his claws around Wanderer's thighs and sinking his teeth into the base of his tail; if he bit a little hard, well, they were apparently playing a bit rougher today.
Wanderer kicked about for a bit before curling around and giving him an unamused look, and Dreamer let go of his tail to grin toothily at him.
Without trying to stay submerged, they were dragged back to the surface by the breath in their lungs, though that was beginning to run out. Dreamer breached the into the air and took deep, refreshing breaths, but was then distracted by a sudden cacophony of flapping.
A dark cloud was rising to one side of the lake, and as he watched it fell back down and flattened to the ground. Not a cloud, of course, but many smaller creatures… They could be birds, but he was starting to get excited that they might be dragons; they were the wrong shape for birds, though the water still clearing from his eyes was blurring the finer details.
He calmly swam over, wondering where they'd come from. Were they native to the island, and had somehow evaded notice until now, or were they displaced from their home by the hunters? He'd like to think the latter was more likely, but they were small dragons and if this was the only flock then it was entirely possible they'd just gone unnoticed; they appeared to be nocturnal, while the Nightstrikers and riders were typically active during the day, and it was a big island.
They watched warily as he emerged from the water with Wanderer just behind him, squawking and chittering quietly among themselves. They looked a little skittish, but while they hadn't fled yet, they retreated as he approached.
With a start, he recognised them from one of the Dragon Eye lenses, the one with the Terrible Terror on it. Horned and spiky with four legs and stocky tails, their heads were narrower than he'd thought, looking almost squashed, and he hadn't expected them to be so small. That they were described on a lens Viggo had originally had, the very first one he had used with Dreamer come to think of it, did not bode well. Perhaps it was not so unlikely they had fled somewhere else.
Wanderer warbled curiously and walked forwards, and a few of them crept up to meet him. They were much smaller than the Nightstrikers, but there were a lot of them, and if they were anything like Terrors then they would attack in a swarm if necessary. But aside from their appearance, he didn't know a lot about them. He resolved to read up on Fishlegs' notes and spend more time investigating the Dragon Eye, now that he could use it more easily.
Still, the dragons themselves were here, he could learn first-hand. He walked up with a polite warble, and the three that had been scenting Wanderer scurried backwards. Odd… He laid down and rested his head on his paws, hoping it would put them more at ease.
It worked, mostly, they very warily approached again, creeping around him and watching him studiously. He calmly put his nose forward to one, and it inched forward to scent him.
He recognised the scent as he caught it properly, it had been light but prevalent in many places over the island since before Dragon's Nest had been built. He purred wryly at them; sneaky little dragons had gone unnoticed all this time. He wondered where they nested, if anywhere specifically.
Several were already getting friendly with Wanderer, weaving around his legs and trying to play with him, one hesitantly licking the lake water from his leg, though Wanderer mostly ignored them. They were starting to get comfortable with Dreamer, a few more wandering close to get a scent of him, their wide nostrils flaring on either side of their tall, narrow heads. The rest of the flock seemed to have lost interest, and were congregating back around the shallows of the lake.
He wondered if he could convince one to go back to the Nest with him to show Fishlegs… but as he contemplated that, some of the flock started taking off, and the rest of them followed. Dreamer watched them, tempted to follow and find out where they were roosting during the day, but he glanced at Wanderer and noticed the somewhat stern, judgemental look, and recalled his pledge. "We follow another light," he said lightly; they had been here this long, and would still be here later.
Wanderer chuffed agreeably and shivered, then bounded back into the lake with a splash. It was a curious paradox about swimming, the water was always cold but then when he got out the air was somehow colder. That was a truth for both dragons and Long-Paws. Dreamer huffed and followed him back in, though his mind was elsewhere.
These dragons were safe from Viggo and his hunters, had been unwittingly protected by the Nightstrikers and riders. That was a good thing. But what about all the other dragons in the Greater Archipelago? Dreamer wasn't complaining that he was spending a day with his friend, but he couldn't quite put from his mind that there were dragons being captured and killed, dragons he could be helping, while he frolicked in the water.
But even were he out there, burning all his fire and working his wings raw, he wouldn't really be making a huge difference, not for one day… Sure, he might save a few lives, but for how long? It wasn't as if Viggo would stop hunting those specific dragons, they would eventually be caught again, or worse. The trouble was, he didn't know what to do about it, Viggo had so many hunters and unless he wanted to just start slaughtering them all then what was he to do?
And yet, as he lazily drifted on his back in the water, he really couldn't think of another option. In a way, this situation was partly down to Dagur being removed from Berserk, allowing Viggo to recruit the Berserkers to his cause, and killing or removing Viggo would only have the same effect at some point; it would leave a large number of restless people hanging around, with the skills and tools to be hunting dragons. Someone would take control, and while they might not be as clever as Viggo, they might not be so…
...Honourable? Viggo wasn't quite that. But he respected the rules of the game they were playing, and seemed to have an understanding with the Nightstrikers that played well with Dreamer's own morals. The next one to take charge might not be so accommodating, particularly with dragons having removed the previous leader.
No, he didn't want to kill Viggo or his hunters. That would only lead to the same situation going on down south.
He sighed, flaring his wings out across the surface of the water as he floated on his back, and stared at the sky as the encroaching dawn dimmed the sky-sparks. He felt as if he was trying to break a boulder in half with a chisel, the task insurmountable with the tools he had.
"You dreaming," Wanderer said, then snorted water all over his face.
"I thinking," Dreamer hummed, unbothered by the droplets running down his face and neck.
Wanderer groaned and crawled up across Dreamer's legs, pulling them under the water. "Not dream this light. Play! Relax! Not think about stupid hunters."
"How I relax when you drag me up before sky-fire kindle?" Dreamer growled playfully, swatting at him.
"I show later," Wanderer purred cryptically, and Dreamer stared suspiciously at him; he couldn't see how getting up earlier would be more restful. "We fly? Can watch kindling."
"Yes," Dreamer agreed, seeing nothing wrong with that. He was starting to feel lethargic for getting up so early, but that was easily set aside for the promise he had made.
Wanderer slipped off his hindquarters and disappeared under the surface, then powered up out of the water and sprayed Dreamer with more cold droplets; that was slightly more annoying. Dreamer huffed before diving backwards and swimming over to the nearby bank, where he walked out of the water and leapt into the air.
He murred curiously as Wanderer fired shortly ahead of himself and flew through the resulting fireball. A waste of fire… but they weren't going to be hunting down ships today anyway; there likely wouldn't even be any, they'd still be sailing back from Viggo's island.
With nothing better to spend it on, he built a shot in a thin, volatile shell and fired it ahead of himself, then cruised through the resulting fireball. It mostly dried him, and was blissfully warm at that. He was looking forward to defeating Viggo so that he would have more fire to spare for trivial pleasantries…
They flew straight into a small cloud, solitary and thin, obscuring Dreamer's sight. It was a little disorienting, having no visual reference for up or down, but his wings worked steadily to lift him up above it and out into the open sky.
Everything stretched out in every direction, mysterious and infinite. The sky-sparks, the stars, glistened as they faded with the warm light of dawn creeping across the sky. A blinding gash of light suddenly cut across the horizon, and he had a sense of… realisation.
"What you dream now?" Wanderer teased, drifting up next to him.
Dreamer stared out to that impossible distance, his vision adjusting itself to the intense light. "I thinking we could fly forever, but never reach horizon." He just knew that, somehow, there would always be more horizon. His sire had once said the dragons had come from a great waterfall at the end of the world, and it was generally assumed that for the sky-fire to rise, it had to rise from somewhere. Wanderer had never explained to him anything of the sort, but the sort of terms and phrases he used suggested the sky-fire lit in the water and flew up into the sky.
"That good dream," Wanderer warbled, gazing out to the infinitely distant sky-fire. "Maybe, many nights away, we fly those winds…"
"I said we not can reach it."
"Yes," he agreed, "but we not fly for that. When we tired of dreaming, we wander. Find new dream."
Yes… That sounded nice… Dreamer yawned widely, finding himself back in the present moment. The dawn was well underway, and the cloud beneath them had drifted away to reveal their island, Dragon's Nest built tidily into its wide bay.
Hrrr, as long as they were taking a day off… He grinned toothily, then folded his wings to fall into a silent dive. He didn't aim directly for the Nest, but rather the tall cliff ringing the bay it was built in, sinking his claws into the tough ground as he landed.
He crept to the edge as Wanderer set down slightly behind him, and peered down at the Nest. At one hut in particular. He carefully prepared a tiny little shot, the smallest he could make, and fired…
The shot dissipated long before it hit its target, fizzling out in a puff of fire. He huffed, but Wanderer caught on and fired a shot before he could try again. It lanced down into the Nest, and detonated harmlessly against the twins' door.
They waited, watching… but nothing happened. "After me," Dreamer hummed, tapping the ground with his tail twice in quick succession, then fired another tiny shot with the usual brief screech, like warping metal, and Wanderer followed suit. The two shots shrank into the distance, hitting the door with perfect timing.
Knock knock, Dreamer thought smugly.
The door opened and one of the twins angrily leaned outside, seeing nobody there, while the Nightstrikers snickered from their perch. The door closed, and Dreamer fired another shot at it, thankfully not messing this one up either. The door opened again immediately, Ruffnut stalking out to look around wildly, while Tuffnut poked his head out as well.
They slammed it closed, Dreamer gestured, and Wanderer fired another shot. The door opened again, and sensitive Nightstriker ears picked up a brief shouted argument between the occupants but not what they were saying. A confused Barf and Belch were then corralled outside, and the door closed behind him.
Dreamer laughed, tempted to continue the game, but he was running low on fire and didn't want to use all of it to prank the twins; particularly as their prank had failed so badly. And at any rate, a figure was exiting Astrid's hut, closely followed by a pawful of smaller figures that winged out over the sea, Stormfly and her fledglings looking for their breakfast. Astrid emerged shortly after, starting on her morning jog. Meatlug would probably be getting up soon with her fledglings too, but they slept a little later than the Spine-Tails.
Dragon's Nest was slowly waking up… Dreamer yawned widely, then licked his wrist to clean his face and gave himself a shake.
"What want do now?" Wanderer hummed, stretching.
"Hunt?" Dreamer offered. "Not us," he clarified, rolling his eyes at the suspicious look Wanderer gave him. "Land-prey. Not for eat now, for put over fire, eat this night."
Wanderer lapped at the drool suddenly leaking from his mouth, then stood and leaped into the air.
They flew across the island and dropped into a clearing near where the boars frequented, then ran noses across the ground to scent for tracks. Wrrr, this had been a place the boars frequented, but they appeared to have moved on; all he could scent was sticks and leaf litter, and the occasional very old scent that had survived the winter.
Though he wasn't hungry, he had little difficulty focusing on the task, sifting through the scents of the forest, of foliage, dirt, birds, and bugs, keeping his hearing sharp for a chance encounter. The morning wore on as they searched, occasionally drifting apart and stumbling on each other again, but it was a peaceful, productive task to sink his teeth into. The pleasant scents of the forest, birds chirping in the trees, the rustling leaves in the wind-
Sharp claws dug into his back, behind his wings, and he shrieked in alarm even as he bucked and rolled to fling his assailant off. Of course, Wanderer was quite a bit bigger and easily held on, so it was only a short scuffle. "You need awareness," he hummed, swatting Dreamer's head.
"I was hunting," Dreamer growled, futilely struggling to throw him off.
"You scenting into wind," Wanderer said with a snort.
Dreamer checked where he'd been going… and groaned at himself. Scents would be picked up and blown with the wind for a short distance, so it was more efficient to hunt adjacent to it. He knew that, he just hadn't been observing it. "I have stupid thinking," he huffed.
"We rest soon," his friend promised. "Finish hunt now. I think we not find boars here. Fly to different hunting-place?"
"Yes," Dreamer chuffed, and was then allowed to rise. They bounded through the forest to a clearing and leaped into the sky, lingering adrenaline offsetting Dreamer's lack of sleep.
The next place they set down in was less densely forested but much more promising, and Dreamer quickly located some recent droppings, only a couple of days old, and then a trail. He felt much more focused now, on the trail of his prey, though he was a big strong Nightstriker and it was a tasty meal on legs.
He had not hunted boar recently, not since the winter, but it was suddenly evident how much he'd grown. They encountered three adults, one with long hooked tusks and all with strong legs… and they all squealed in abject terror before fleeing. They stood absolutely no chance whatsoever, Dreamer easily keeping up with long strides, briefly revelling in the thrill of the hunt before going in for the kill. It somehow dodged his first pounce onto its back, but the second landed squarely on its shoulders and he drove it into the ground with his superior weight. He wasted no time in getting a grip on its neck to expose its throat and put it out of its misery, but he could have if he'd wanted to.
This had once been such a difficult hunt for them, and that without the wicked tusks this one sported… But now he was experienced, and having grown many times his own size since then was definitely helping too. He even had his fire on top of that, though using it for a hunt was just overkill.
Wanderer dragged his own kill through the trees, one of the sows, and purred proudly. Dreamer supposed it could be turned into jerky or something; it certainly wouldn't go to waste. He didn't really need to, but Dreamer backed up and took a running start to grab his prey and lift it into the air; if he didn't practise such things when he could, he couldn't rely on doing it if he ever needed to.
"Hey," Dreamer barked as they soared the thermals back to the nest. "I have thinking," he said with a grin, though didn't elaborate further. Wanderer watched him thoughtfully, falling back a bit.
They dumped their kills on the big ledge that had served as a sort of work area when they'd been building, which had sort of kept the role when there was need; it was easily accessible and offered a lot of space. He then rubbed his forelegs against the lethal wound of his kill, bloodying them, and then leaped back into the air.
"Astrid!" he barked as he alighted outside the communal hut, calling her out where she could see him properly in the warm light of the sky-fire, then started licking the blood off; Wanderer was doing the same, which wasn't necessary but would be a little more fun.
"Hey guys," Astrid said as she walked outside. "What's-… up?"
"We hunt food for this night," Dreamer purred with a feral grin, and her shocked expression grew a little more wild; his bloody teeth would probably set anyone on edge.
"We bring back much prey," Wanderer purred as well, then yawned widely, showing off his own bloody teeth. Dreamer blinked heavily, then couldn't help yawning himself… though he could have sheathed his teeth. "We sleep now…"
"Uh… Sure," Astrid said slowly, backing away a little. "I'll… get someone to handle… that. Thanks…"
"Leave inner meats from one," Dreamer reminded her – he had no interest in kidney pie or heart stew – and then took to the air as she nodded tensely.
"I think she fear us now," Wanderer chuckled, though there was a questioning lilt to his tone.
"Some," Dreamer hummed, smiling to himself. "We Nightstrikers. Should remind them sometimes."
Amused, agreement, Wanderer barked, then angled towards the nearest mountain.
"Not rest now?" Dreamer asked, confused. His friend just gave him an amused sidelong glance before flapping ahead.
They dropped down to a barren ledge near the base of the mountain, the steep slope a familiar comfort in how it rose high into the sky beside them, and the canopy of the forest stretched out below, wide fields of long grass swaying in the breeze beyond that. After quickly finishing cleaning off their paws, Wanderer just stared at him, a knowing and expectant look on his face.
"What?" Dreamer murred, looking around. There was nothing here. Nothing but the rock, baking in the light…
Tentatively, he lay down… then rolled onto his back with a loud purr, revelling in the warmth soaking into his scales. And then the warm light began seeping through the scales all the way down his front, and he stretched out his legs and wings to better expose himself.
"We Nightstrikers," Wanderer purred in the corner of his vision, also sprawling onto his back. "Not fear things now."
Mmrrr, besides which they hadn't seen any larger dragons around this island anyway, as with many islands in the Greater Archipelago. He certainly didn't feel threatened… And with all the warmth, he couldn't even bring himself to think about Viggo and the hunters as his eyes slid closed.
The boat slid up onto the rocky shore, and Dagur immediately leapt from the prow, revelling in the smells of rocks and trees and grass and land. "Ahhh, so good to be off that stupid boat," he said to himself, feeling his shoulders relax for the first time in weeks.
Nobody else said anything, but then he was used to that. Heather might have, but she was scouting ahead on her dragon; not as awesome as a Skrill, but the Razorwhip suited her sharp personality. Nearly all of the Dragon Hunters under Viggo's command were Berserkers, the men who couldn't stand to let their Bloodlust starve. Dagur didn't begrudge them leaving the tribe, they clearly weren't fit to be members of it, but they kept their distance nonetheless.
Not that Dagur himself was a tribesman of the Berserkers anymore either… Deposed and cast out to save their own skins. Maybe the tribe didn't deserve them; they, at least, were still lusting for a fight.
He shook his head and straightened his shoulders again, looking around to save himself from spiralling down into those thoughts; he'd spent enough of the last two years thinking, it was time to do some doing. And this looked to be prime Nadder territory, lush forests and a big mountain for them to nest on.
His arm still felt weak and frail from the immense impact of the Furies' fire, but that wouldn't hinder him on anything less than a vertical climb. Oooh, and how he looked forward to hunting those particular dragons again… but for now, Nadders would have to do. He had barely walked away from facing them at full strength, going in with an injury was suicide, not battle. He could hope for a favourable fight to even the odds, but what fun was that? No, it would be much more satisfying to heal and take them on at their best.
Patience was something he had become very good at in the last two years…
"What are you just standing around for?" Heather asked, descending on her dragon. "You look like you've been hit on the head."
"Ugh," Dagur grunted, "got too many words floating 'round my noggin. Come on men! We hunt!" He began walking up the rocks, beginning the trek onto the island.
"Should you really be hunting with one arm in a splint?" Heather asked.
"Why shouldn't I? You think I need both arms to kill a stupid Nadder?"
"Calm down, I was only asking," she said.
"I am calm," he said, a little confused.
"Okay then…" She turned a little in the saddle to address the Hunters following behind them. "Listen up! We've got several Nadders roaming the forests, but they seem clustered around one area, just this side of the centre. Should only be a few days to get them all."
Dagur frowned. "Wouldn't they be nesting on the mountain? It's still spring, they'll have offspring to protect."
"Well I've just been over the whole island and there aren't any up there. But you're welcome to spend a few days making the hike. We'll have all the fun and I'll pick you up when it's time to go."
"Huh…" That was really weird. He had been certain there'd be a bunch up there, that was where they liked to roost. "Okay then."
"You don't sound convinced," Heather said.
"Should I not be convinced?" he teased.
"I'm just making sure my brother gets his fun," she teased back. He laughed; though he had to admit, his sister had a weird sense of humour.
Heather dismounted to walk beside her dragon shortly into the long trek over the island. It was times such as this that Dagur missed his Skrill. Its fiery temper, the way it would attempt to kill him at every opportunity, on occasion his only protection being a metal dagger in the ground to catch its lightning… It hadn't even been killed by a Night Fury, Astrid had been the one to end it. The kill of any good hunt was immensely satisfying, and the dreadful lead-up while they just got to their targets was part of that satisfaction, but soaring straight into the thick of battle was much more fun.
His sister suddenly jumped onto her dragon and flew ahead, disappearing over the trees. He shrugged and kept walking, curious but unconcerned; he'd ask her when she got back.
Sounds of heavy footfalls through the forest reached him a short time later, sounds he almost recognised… They were familiar, but what-
"Incoming!" Heather shouted right as two Nadders appeared through the trees ahead of him. They shrieked and swerved to the side, Heather keeping chase.
He reacted without thought, sprinting to pincer them against Heather, though she wasn't quite angled properly for that. He grit his teeth and pushed himself for a little more speed, even discarding his axe; he didn't need it for this.
They feared the spiky dragon chasing them more than they feared him, which was what doomed them in the end. He reached the nearest and grabbed the lowest quill on the side of its head with his good hand, then dove under its neck, keeping himself above its thundering paws. He wrenched its head to the side in the process, sending it crashing straight into the other one, then twisted to get his feet under himself as they all tumbled to a halt.
He dragged the quill he was still holding to pull the Nadder into the other, further tangling them and holding them both down. "Hurry up and get the ropes!" he yelled, focusing on keeping the two dragons pinned with only a single working arm.
Heather dismounted and stared with wide eyes, though she didn't move to help. "I… didn't think you'd manage to get them," she said.
"Ha!" he laughed. "That's Dagur for you! He's so reliable!" It didn't matter that she wasn't helping, the other Hunters were already there to wrap them up and drag them back. "You, and you," he selected two hunters based on how much he arbitrarily hated the sight of them, "drag these back to the ship and stand guard."
"No kidding," Heather said, and he beamed widely. They were connecting! He felt all warm and fuzzy inside. "Well, you two finish tying them up," she told the hunters, "and if there's so much as a scratch on them, I'll feed you to Windshear. Got it?"
The two stupid-looking Hunters grunted, as good an acknowledgement as Dagur had ever got for making someone do something they didn't want to, and then they became irrelevant because he was walking again and they were not.
After retrieving his axe, they walked for the rest of the day, and then into the night, lighting torches to see by. "We'll set up camp here," Heather eventually declared, and the men dutifully started stringing up tents.
"Just so I understand, why don't we keep going?" Dagur asked. "I'm fine. That lot are fine. We could keep going."
"Because," she said as she rummaged through her bag, "we're almost there. We can't see in the dark, but the dragons can, and they'll see us coming a mile off if we're using torches."
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense," he agreed, then dropped down to sit against a tree and began picking at the bandages on his left arm. He longed to exercise it, to rebuild the strength he had lost, but he knew that he would only damage himself further if he tried now.
He needed to figure out how to survive those blasts, if he ever wanted to take on a Night Fury again… Getting the shield into the way to block the first two shots had been trivial, the other four a bit more of a challenge, but it had cost him an arm for the purposes of the fight. They wouldn't be fleeing if they had more fire, so three shots each, as Ryker had guessed… But he was pretty sure the third and fourth hits had been what had done his arm in, so they'd only need to stagger their shots a bit more. He couldn't rely on breaking his own arm to block them, even were that something he wanted to do. Though fighting off two Night Furies would be incredible, a single Night Fury on its own would be more than satisfying in itself, so if he got one on its own somehow...
Viggo had said something about a better grip for the shield. That metal he had was good stuff; if there'd been anything else between him and those explosions he'd easily be dead. Still, using superior equipment was… a bit like cheating. As was dodging, he wanted to say he could take a Night Fury head-on and survive everything it threw at him. He thought about how the shield had taken the hit, throwing him back but taking the full force of the explosion… If he considered that impact to be similar to that of an axe, the obvious answer was to angle the block, redirect some of it rather than trying to take the whole thing…
"What'cha thinking about?" Heather asked, dropping down next to him and tossing him a parcel of something.
He pulled off the twine to discover some jerky and bread. "Aw, sis, you shouldn't have!" She rolled her eyes. "No, really, I was just going to steal one of theirs." He pointed at the other Hunters.
"You know," Heather said, biting into her own jerky, "Astrid said something to me when I was on Berk. 'A hungry neighbour can't watch your back.' It stuck with me. If you watch out for the people around you, they'll watch out for you. If you take their meals all the time, they might figure it's easier to let you take the barbs to the back." The long, dangerous barbs on her dragon's tail happened to flex, as if for emphasis.
"Huh… Really?" Vella had just started packing an extra meal after the first time. He bit into the bread, finding it wasn't even that stale.
"Mmhmm."
That… actually made a fair bit of sense. It had Stoick's pacifist stink all over it, but he could see the merit.
His meal in his belly and his sister by his side, he stretched and got comfortable against the tree. He would hunt these lesser dragons for Viggo while he healed… and then he would track down those Night Furies and return to Berserk with their heads.
Author's Notes
Speaking of Dagur, I picked up the DLC for XCom 2 when it went on sale recently, and played it through. Absolutely wrecked the Viper Alpha in a single mission by planting a pair of melee classes next to him who attacked every time he took an action.
Of course I then made the awesome armour you get from that and equipped it on one of my Assault guys, thinking nothing of it - until he sprinted into a fight and encountered a pair of regular Vipers, an annoying reptilian enemy, that then panicked and killed their ally because I was literally wearing their alpha's head as a hat. Just kind of sat there staring at the screen for a while.