Once the dragon finally levelled out, Farran could feel the colour return to his face, or rather some of it anyway. It had only been a few minutes of flying and yet it was already enough for him to want to jump off, endless ocean and sharks be damned. How Heather or the dragon riders were able to do this was ridiculous. Only a maniac would be brave enough to get on the back of a winged firebreathing beast and fly it high into the sky like it was nothing. It made Farran unsure on whether he should praise Heathers breavery or claim her insane. While he could admit that the view was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before, the young hunter felt himself much more comfortable with his boots on the ground. Unfortunatley that was a luxury he would not be given anytime soon. All he could do was hope that Magni would grant him the strength to endure what remained of the journey.

"So. Ready to continue that story of yours or are you still deciding on whether or not to be sick all over my dragon?" Heather looked over her shoulder with a smirk. For a moment Farran noticed the dragons head look back as well after hearing the last part of her riders sentence. Thankful that its shiny metal scales were not tainted with disgusting human bodily fluids, it faced forwards once more grumbling loudly.

"Don't worry girl." Heather reassured the creature with a pat on the neck. "You know I'd kick him off myself if he dared."

"Good." Farran mumbled weakly but irritated. "The sooner I'm off this flying reptile the better I'll feel."

"Keep complaining and it will be sooner."

"Who's complaining? I'm not. I'm absolutely ecstatic back here."

"I can tell. So, that story?"

Farran glared at her. "Were you ever taught patience as a child?"

"Obviously not." She laughed. "Besides, look at it this way. If you're talking you won't have to focus as much on flying hundreds of feet above the ocean."

"Very well then, since I said I would do anyway I guess there's no better time."

Farran sighed. This was going to be interesting for Heather to hear.

"In some ways my tale is relatable to yours so perhaps you will understand where I'm coming from. See, years ago I lived in a simple village called Throst. Small in size but big in spirit. Winters were often cold and harsh and the summers were no warmer but it was home. I have a lot of fond memories growing up there. It was a beautiful place too, quite close to the sea. If it was still around I'd probably still be there..."

Farran paused for a second but quickly snapped back to reality and continued.

"On the front and sides of it was nothing but the vastness of the ocean and behind, acres of forest. Most of the village consisted of small wooden huts, varying on size depending on how important your role was in the village. There was an upwards slope that started at the very front of Throst and ended right at the back where the chiefs house sat. He had a large house but barely any room to live in it thanks to the size of his family. We had everything we needed to survive for generations too. Warriors, fishermen, a couple of blacksmiths, healers and even traders. Everything that every village needs. Life was simple and everyone was happy."

Farran, while telling and describing the details of his former village sounded rather positive to Heathers ears. Had she not needed to keep an eye out for any signs of the missing ship she was sure she would see the hunter gazing blankly into nothingness as though he could see the village himself. These thoughts were quickly silenced as Farrans voice took on a darker tone.

"Until the dragons came that is." He spat. "Centuries ago as the war between Vikings and dragons waged, my people, upon the founding of Throst discovered that the island housed no dragons. Boars and bears yes, but not a single dragon it be found. Not only that but the island they had chosen was also too separate from all our neighbouring islands where dragon attacks were rather frequent, which kept us safely out of the primary flight paths of the big dragon packs. Seizing such a rare opportunity the founding chief made it official to the other tribe during the following Gathering of Chiefs that they would not fight against dragons."

This time Heather turned her head at her passenger. Had she heard that right? His village did not help in the fight for survival? From beginning to end? Such a thing had been unheard of, at least to her. "Wait! You mean your village did nothing while others suffered? Surely the other tribes did not take well to that."

"Just because we didn't fight didn't mean to say that we didn't contribute to the war effort. Instead of fighting we instead readied and prepared weapons food and even building materials for other villages in preparation of a dragon attack. We were actually a major supplier to many tribes such as the Grogspers, the Greasy Talons and the Bog-Burglars. As long as we didn't fight we had no issue doing what we did best. And neither did any of the other tribes"

"I suppose. But what about you? I'm guessing that staying home unable to fight 'evil terrifying dragons' didn't sit right with you?" Heather challenged.

"Actually it didn't effect me as much. Not until later on in my life... You see, one big reason we chose not to fight dragons was out of fear that we would bring the brutality of the war to our front doorstep. And seeing that upon announcing this our tribe was weak to start off with all those years ago, we had to do what was necessary to ensure our survival. As time went on we stuck with what we thought was best for the tribe, and it worked for a good long while".

Unfortunately not every plan was perfect. Not even one that dared to withstand the test of time.

"So what happened?" Heather carefully asked, curious but unsure whether she should keep prying at this point.

It took an uncomfortably long time before she got her answer. At least she would have if Farran hadn't asked for her spyglass, which she passed to him. Using the device, Farran scanned the forward area. After a matter of seconds he passed it back.

"I think we've found the missing ship."

Heather wasted no time using the spyglass either, looking in the same direction Farran had been looking in. She found an island right on the rim of the line where the sky met the ocean. Had she not used the spyglass it would have been impossible to spot the marooned hunter ship sitting upon the sandy beach. It also seemed a bit too coincidental that Farran had pointed it out just before he was about to answer her, but decided that her primary objective was more important rather than confront him about it. For now at least.

"Any clue how it could have ended up here?" Farran broke the silence after a minute.

"The dragon hunters use some islands to stow and hide supplies in case of an emergency or to stock up supply ships, which must be why Ryker wanted to send me out right away. If that is indeed a supply ship then losing it will cripple the amount of time we can maintain a siege on the Dragons Edge."

"Then we should find the crew and get that ship back into the ocean."

"Providing it's still sea worthy. Remember, we don't know why it's even beached to begin with. We need to be careful, just in case."

"You think that a dragon did this?"

"Either a large group or one really big one."

"Then we shouldn't waste any more time! We need to get to that island now and be sure that there's even a crew to sail that ship."

Heather silently agreed. With the dragon suddenly flying at a faster speed it did not take much longer before the small team made it to the island. Upon closing the gap it became more apparent that Heather had been quite close with her prediction. From the back the ship looked undamaged, but the front was another story. Most of the hull had either been ripped into splinters or covered in scorch marks. A large assortment of weapons laid scattered all over the place. Oddly enough there were no bodies so whatever had attacked the crew must have taken them deeper into the bowels of the island, or perhaps the hunters aboard the ship had taken no casualties and had chased the offenders off. But even if that was the case then it wouldn't explain the abandoned weapons and ship.

"So much for being sea worthy." Muttered a disappointed Farran as the razorwhip landed close to the officially destroyed ship. "What now?"

"You check the ship. Maybe there's someone still inside of it." Heather ordered, getting back into her usual strict character. "Windshear and I will take a look around, see if there's anything that will explain what exactly happened here."

Farran nodded and pulled out his sword before slowly nearing the ship. The way he moved told Heather that he was expecting for be suddenly attacked at any moment. Given the situation it would be wise to have the same mindset.

As the two split up, Heather inspected the nearest weapon. A mace. Or what a mace would look like if a gronckle sat on it. The handle had been crushed and the metal that made up the lethal part of the weapon was dented. More interestingly there were a set of footprints, mostly faded thanks to the wind. The short distance in-between them suggested that whoever made them was very slowly moving forwards. As Heather followed them they suddenly spaced out, wide enough to tell Heather that the man had instantly gone from a timid walk to suddenly full on sprint. These tracks only increased the amount of questions that were on her mind.

"Don't suppose you have any clues yourself, do you?" Heather asked Windshear. The dragon merely growled softly and tilted its head cluelessly. "Great..."

The two were about to advance when they heard an unusual gurgling sound mixed with a roar! There was no doubt about it. That noise had come from a dragon! Both the huntress and dragons reflexes kicked in and spun round behind them where the roar had come from. Not too far from the ship was exactly what Heather had heard. A dragon. But this was one Heather had never seen before.

The beast was rather interesting in more than one way. It looked like the result of mixing a hippo with a crocodile before sticking on the head of a snapping turtle. To most the animal was nothing short of bizarre. The dark blue scales covering its body seemed somewhat greasy and the two ridges consisting of sharp spines that ran along its back looked sharp and long enough to be impaled on. The beast itself walked on four bulky legs and was attached to an even bulkier body. Instead of walking it seemed to be happy enough simply dragging its hulking frame along the sand. It seemed to be four feet tall, and at least double that in width. It was likely fifteen to twenty feet long. Truly a strange form of dragon if ever there was one.

Sensing that it was docile enough, Heather dared to get closer. Slowly so that the creature would neither attack or retreat back into the ocean where it had presumably appeared from. This also suggested that the dragon was a tidal class and had a much easier time swimming in water. The webbed feet that came into view helped reinforce that theory. Heather risked a look back at the ship to see if Farran had also come to inspect the noise the beast had made. There was no sign of him.

Windshear who had not gotten as close as Heather had, softly roared in a concerned tone. Clearly she did not think getting any closer was a good idea. Heather had a nagging feeling that Farran would be telling her the exact same thing. It was enough of a feeling for her to stop and consider if approaching the creature was worth the risk. However it was highly unlikely that this dragon was responsible for the destruction caused to the ship. If anything it seemed incredibly docile and aware of her presence. Again she edged closer and closer tight until she was less than ten feet away. The beast seemed to take interest in her and watched in a dazed curiosity of what she would do with its black lifeless eyes.

To Windshear, her human was putting herself in unnecessary danger. Again! As she gave another concerned roar Heather merely signalled that she was fine, yet continued to advance forwards. As much as she wanted to just pull her away she knew it was wiser to respect her riders wishes, just as Heather would respect hers. Still it didn't stop her from grumbling in an annoyed tone. Were all humans this hard headed and stubborn or was it just her rider? At least she wouldn't have to worry about this problem with Farran, although the razorwhip admittedly didn't mind as much what would happen if he was in her riders position. Still, at least he didn't seem as bad as most hunters and got along with her rider to an extent. Although one thing puzzled her about this whole thing. Why did Heather feel the need to get closer to it when she could observe from a distance? Humans were weird that way.

To Heather the best and quickest solution was to train the weighty beast. One important reason for doing so was that she knew Farran would assume the worst and attack right away. If she did this she might be able to convince him that not all dragons were as vicious as he thought. It would be a start at least. Of course there was the risk that he would question why she felt the need to train it in the first place, but she would be able to think up an excuse for when that time came. It also made her feel uncomfortable since she was 'technically' doing this for a hunter, but swallowing her pride and feelings she continued to do what she felt was the right call.

After what felt like an eternity, Her hand was merely inches away from the dragons beak. The creature gurgled as though confused.

"It's okay." Heather spoke in the friendliest tone she could. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The beast responded by stretching its head slowly fowards towards her open palm.

Before opening its beaked mouth as wide as it could and tried to bite off her fingers. It was only thanks to Heathers reactions that she still had all four fingers uneaten. Getting over the shock rather quickly she almost removed her double headed axe but decided not to in case the dragon felt more threatened than it probably already did and readied herself in case the now clearly hostile beast tried again. Behind her Windshear, also aware of what just happened roared furiously, ready to fire the second her rider was no longer standing in front of the living ton of blubber. As Heather turned her head to calm her dragon down she failed to notice the tidal class dragon's throat starting to swell and turn translucent revealing a strange while liquid gathering in its throat. Windshear being the more observant of the two roared louder upon seeing this and tried changing positions in order to fire at the offender. Before she could a fourth being appeared and tackled Heather just as a sickly white and grainy substance shot out from the dragons mouth.