Farran gazed at the strange man, unsure why he was even here on the Thors Pride. He certainly wasn't on the ship during the dragons duel so he wasn't part of the crew. Maybe he was new like him? It was a possibility. Then again looking at the scar on his face perhaps not. Either way he felt like he should say something to help break the ever growing tension. Maybe find out for himself.

"May I help you with something?" Farran asked calmly, in which the strange man blinked and went from blank faced to slightly surprised as though broken from a trance.

"Uh, actually yes." He answered in a tone that made him sound both irritated and amused at the same time. A combination that was both very rare and unusual even among vikings. "See, I've been hearing some interesting news about a certain hunter who uh, eheh... took on a speed stinger and killed it." The stranger then turned to face the headless body, looking at it for no more than a few seconds before turning back to Farran. "That the one?" He asked pointing to the body.

"It was." Farran confirmed.

"Huh." He man paused and a small sudden chuckle escaped his lips. "Usually these guys are quick little nippers. Must have been the runt of the litter for it to be beaten by a single hunter."

Farran was about to reply before the man cut him off. "I mean... WOW. To think that YOU a fresh faced hunter, rather young one at that too by the way, managed to just beat such a dangerous and aggressive dragon? There's no way that it wasn't luck!"

"Hm." Farran acknowledged, keeping his eyes trained on the newcomer. He soon found himself disliking the stranger more and more with each passing second. He wasn't exactly sure what he meant by young one either. This guy had to be maybe a year or two older than himself. "Who exactly are you?"

The man looked at Farran as though he had just insulted him. Glaring at Farran hotly. "Why? Do you need to know?" He challenged. Maybe it was the way Farran had asked that seemed to offend him.

"Just being polite." Farran shrugged.

"Ooh, polite eh?" The stranger mocked clasping his hands and brought them up to his face before speaking in a foolish high pitched voice"Oh well excuuuse me, oh good sir for being too rude and scary for your liking. Guess you're more of an inexperienced little kid than a hunter then huh?"

Farran glared at him icily. This man clearly did not seem at all interested in small talk. His mood kept on switching between amused to angry in the blink of an eye which made him all the more unsettling, maybe even unstable. Not to mention his attitude towards him was nothing but disrespectful. Something Farran wasn't willing to let go so easily.

"I suppose you make a point about your name." He frowned. "I'll end up forgetting it in ten minutes anyway. And probably you in an hours time. Whatever you're here for, the corpse, its properties or even myself I could care less. So here's something rude and scary you can try to get through your thick head. Get your filthy hide out of here or I'll be adding a second body into this room."

Of course Farran was bluffing on that last part. In actual reality he doubted that he had the strength to kill another human, even in the situation he found himself in now. Dragons yes but there was a huge difference between the two. Usually. More so he hoped that this guy wasn't some sort of superior. He had very nearly gotten in trouble with the dragon hunters one and only dragon scout. He didn't need another mistake to make things harder on himself.

The strangers face twisted back and forth between a mixture of emotions as he gibbered and repeated words of Farrans threats. This included small timid laughs, gnashing his teeth and clenching his fists. It looked like he was about to explode at any second. Farran slowly began to reach for his knife expecting the worst so soon burst forth from what one could compare to a soon to explode volcano when suddenly the stranger seemed to drop all signs of aggression towards him and actually gave a proper hearty laugh which increased in volume before soon lowering and coming to a complete stop.

"Oh that's a good one." He chuckled. "I... I got to give you credit there that was really funny! Certainly not what I expected at all." He wiped a tear from his eye before becoming serious again. "Anyway enough messing around. I'll be honest. I heard rumours from some hunters about someone taking part in this whole dragons duel thing and that they had ended up slicing a speed stingers head clean off of its shoulders! So, of course I had to see if it was true. Nice to know they weren't actually lying to my face like I thought. Guess that means I ought to apologise for... eh you probably don't want to know what. Heh. Wait til my sister hears this one."

Farran said nothing. The hunter wasn't even sure if he could or even should talk anymore. No matter whether he tried being respectful or threatening it ended up having the opposite effect on the madman. In the end he decided not to as the stranger went back to studying the corpse, checking its tail and even giving it a few gentle kicks as though he thought that the headless body would suddenly come to life and attack. His attention turned to Farran.

"You know as much as I love a good dragons corpse, you are aware you can still harvest its venom, aren't you? Sure its no dragon root but hey, better incredibly dangerous than sorry, am I right?"

"Don't you mean better safe than sorry?" Farran found himself asking right away. The stranger shrugged.

"Eh. Tomato tohmato." His face twisted into something of an evil grin. "Just make sure you don't prick yourself. That arm of yours has seen better days, hasn't it?"

And just like that, the stranger left. Farran watched as he eventually disappeared round the corner humming to himself. It didn't take much longer for the ship to become silent once more, prompting Farran to leave also. He had had plenty of time to mull things over. Plus he would need to get rid of the body before it started to smell.

Deciding to ignore the madmans advice on harvesting the venom, Farran dealt with the corpse in the most appropriate way necessary and had it thrown into the sea for the sharks. A dead stinger would fetch too little coin at the market to even be worth the effort so there would be no issues down the road later on. The floors had been mopped free of blood after a good twenty minutes of hard dedicated work. It also became apparent that Farrans armour could also do with some cleaning too. Stepping out into the sun light made it all the more easier to see the dried blood that stained him. More the dragons blood than his own thankfully. Perhaps it would be wise to sort it out now before sorting out any other duties for the day. He couldn't really walk around in the state he was in after all. He probably looked crazier than the stranger he had just met. Even a hunter need to look his best at all times.

The hunter made his way down the wooden walkway until after ten minutes he reached the end. The very end, far from the ships and hunters. A small spot he could call his own, for the time being anyway. The sea round this pier was rather shallow. So much so that it was easy to spot the dazzling ocean floor underneath the waves from the smooth sand floor and its wave-like formations to the colourful coral and the few fish that swam peacefully. It felt very relaxing to Farran, especially under the now warm and gentle sun. It was as though it was his own little safe spot that kept out the harsh rule and laws of reality, shielding him from the horrors and brutality of life itself. Very few places could make a person feel that way, more so than even their own home. This one now seemed to be Farrans. It allowed him to view the beauty of the ocean was well as its unending vastness and perhaps more importantly, it put him out of the way of everyone else. He was alone. For Farran, it couldn't be any better.

The hunter sat down and removed his chest piece and set it down before taking a seat on the very end of the pier. Just like that, the troubles of the day seemed to melt away like ice against a warm fire. Using a cloth that he had grabbed on his way down, Farran leaned over the edge and soaked it in the ocean, his hand sinking into cold wet sea. He found it amusing that even on the hottest day that the ocean remained freezing cold as his arm was consumed by its touch. Bringing it back out after a few seconds, the young hunter held the chest plate with his other, battle scarred arm and wiped the cloth against it.

Seconds later, he began to hum a faint tune, not on purpose either. The tune came to him he remembered his own village from years back used to sing. Usually fishermen or traders. Matter of fact, anyone who spent a fair amount of time near the boundaries of the ocean would hear others sing it and in time do so themselves. Music had just that much power even after so many years. Though Farran as a child usually hummed this song he now felt the urge to sing it. He wasn't even that sure that he remembered all the words but he was tempted to give it a go all the same. Had the melody of the song come through his lips so easily perhaps the words would soon follow.

The roaring sea
Calls home to me
Past waves and winds and the frightening storm

Past the devils might
Without thought of fear and fright
Stands the land where I come from

And through the hail
I dare to sail
With never a fear of drowning

So let me though
And spare my crew
For home is our destination

We strong and bold
Who face the cold
Are nothing but warm at heart

And when we arrive
Our village shall thrive
Until we set sail again

And with the the small song ended as quickly as it begun. Farran gave one of his rare smiles, actually happy that he remembered it after so long of hearing it last. For a brief moment he actually felt he was back in his old village, sitting on the large chestnut oak pier looking over the endless body of ocean that reached the worlds end. The large viking ships hauling and trading all sorts of strange and mystical goods from around the world and fishermen fishing for their next meal. Of course now those fond memories were now replaced with a harsher reality. Instead of trading ships were now gigantic war ships loaded from bow to stern with the most dangerous weapons built by dragon hunting hands. Fishing was certainly of no interest to the hunters as they instead prefered to practice their archery skills at painted targets. It was different to what life used to be like for Farran and even made him wonder what may have become of him had his village still been around. Who would be the man he was supposedly destined to originally become? A fisherman? Or perhaps a role not too different from what he was now. A warrior charged with keeping the peace of his village from dragons.

He shook the thought from his head almost right away. Why was he wasting his own time with such pointless thoughts? That future was forever lost and he knew it. All that mattered was the life he was living right now, and his abilities to hold onto it as tight as he could.

Some time passed before the stubborn blood stains were finally washed off, leaving a metal gleaming set of armour remaining. All remaining thoughts of the past wilted away and became locked away deep within his memories once again. Satisfied with his work, Farran leaned back down towards the ocean to wash his hands and the cloth. He suddenly froze.

The sun had disappeared behind a number of dark clouds so the ocean floor was not as visible as it had been before. However it didn't make it hard to see two massive eyes from below staring right at him. For a moment neither set of eyes blinked, as though whatever was beneath the waves was just as surprised to see him. A million thoughts went though Farrans mind as he tried to figure out what it was. A pair of jellyfish? Two conveniently placed rocks? A kraken looking for its next meal? It wasn't until the light from the sun started shining down that the ocean floor became clear once more, as did the thing resting on it. Slowly the outline of the thing below began to take hold and formed the thing below into the unmistakable shape of a dragon.

Realising this, Farran jumped to his feet immediatley about to grab the still bloody dagger from its hilt until to his surprise the beast swam off faster than Farran could blink. It wasn't until a minute later that Farran felt safe enough to lower his guard and stepped closer to the pier, only slightly. There was no doubt about it as the shape of the beast had been imprinted into his mind, that thing was certainly a dragon. But perhaps more alarmingly it looked an awful lot like a-

"Hey you!"

Farran quickly snapped out of his thoughts and turned to find another hunter facing him with a serious look on his face. Farran wondered how distracted he must have been for him not to hear the approaching soldier.

"Ryker wants all hunters ready for a new assignment, so get moving now!"

Farran didn't need to be told twice as he did exactly that, once he had put back on all the pieces of armour he had just washed. The strange beast from below escaped his mind for the time being. So much for this place being a safe spot after all.