Farran ran as fast as his legs would carry him. The more distance he made the clearer he could hear the sounds of fighting. He cursed himself for taking Heather so far out. His feet began to sting and his muscles ached as he pushed them to their limit in order to reach the beach as quickly as possible. He began to wonder if he may have been better off going after her instead? It was likely that she would have been heading to the riders base, assuming that she hadn't reached it already. If he had followed and failed to catch her in time then it was highly possible that he would have been taken prisoner instead, which wouldn't have done the hunters any favours.

At least with the choice he had made he can inform everyone on the spy's betrayal, as well as help deal with whatever was going on back there. The most logical explanation being that the riders had launched a counter attack and from the sounds of it, forcing the hunters on the defensive. If that was true then they wouldn't be able to hold the beach. And if they weren't able to hold the beach then they would abandon it and retreat back to the main ships.

The closer he got to the beach, the noises soon begun to die down. Not as many sounds of dragon blasts or hunters shouting and giving orders. There was only one possible reason why this was, given what he had made of being unable to maintain a grip on the beach.

With this in mind he ran as fast as he could, being careful not to trip and tumble downhill. Thankfully he reached the treeline and made it to the beach. Only there was no one there. At least no hunters. The few rowboats that remained were on fire or destroyed. Worse, now resting in place of the hunters was a sizable pack of dragons ranging from nadders, gronkles and monstrous nightmares. A good number of them covered from head to talon in scars too, more old than new. All this pointed to one obvious conclusion.

He had been left behind. Trapped on the one place that no hunter dreamed of being alone.

Realising the position he now found himself in, Farran kept quiet and tried to keep himself concealed behind the treeline. Thankfully the wild beasts were more preoccupied with exploring the beach than searching for any stranded survivors but should one turn its head in his direction...

The hunter continued to scan the beach from a safe distance, hoping that perhaps there was still a rowboat in good condition that he may have missed, or maybe any useful equipment that would come in handy, not that he'd be able to reach it now but if he waited long enough then the dragons would eventually move on. The beach was an unsuitable environment for any of the three species he had noted so they shouldn't stay much longer.

As he waited, he checked to see if he could spot any of the ships in the distance. The sun was coming up, giving him a little light which was more a problem than it was a solution. More visibility for the dragons, making him that much more vulnerable. As luck would have it, he barely caught the ships on the sealine, probably waiting for the last rowboat to reach them before retreating. If so then the invasion had been a colossal failure. The only bright side being that he didn't need to listen to Ryker go on about how it was his troops fault, rather than his own.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horn being blown. Surprisingly close to his position too. He quickly dove behind a nearby bush as the dragons looked at the forest. Through the brambles and leaves, the hunter spotted none other than the traitor spy emerging from the tree, thirty feet away! Had he still believed that she was on his side, he would have been impressed on how she had managed to reach the beach so quickly. Seems that she hadn't planned to make it to the riders base at all. Perhaps twenty seconds had passed after blowing her horn, and from above, her dragon appeared. The prisoner still riding on top of it!

Several other dragon riders approached and landed as well, meeting and greeting the traitor like old friends. They soon began to talk. Unable to hear the full conversation, Farran assumed that they were talking about their victory. At least he assumed so up until the point he heard Heather mention his name. Did she know that he was trapped on the island?

Farran slowly loaded another bolt into the crossbow and took aim at Heather. He thought back to their conversation on whether he had it in him to pull the trigger. To her, meant to kill another human. To him, to do what's necessary. He had failed the first time. The weight of killing her was more than he thought he could handle. So why now? What made him think that this time would be different? Because she had sealed his fate? Let him become prey to a dozen scaly monsters? Was that enough for him to do the right thing?

No.

Even then, he could not. But that hadn't stopped him last time, at least not that reason. Sometimes revenge could come from letting the victim live and have them suffer in other ways. While Farran hadn't killed a human, he had most certainly killed dragons. And he knew which one to go for.

Shifting his aim, he targeted the metal dragon, which remained quite still since it had landed. A single bolt in the neck would do enough damage be enough to bring it down. The hunter switched from a prone position to a crouch position in order to improve his chances of scoring a hit and waited until the razorwhip was still and distracted by the riders ongoing conversation. He was about to fire.

Then he heard breathing. Heavy breathing. Not his own. He felt the warm breath of something right above him. Something that knew he was here. The hunter slowly looked up.

The second he did, his ear drums nearly exploded as he looked down the maw of a huge screaming dragon. The strength of its ferocious roar nearly knocked Farran to the ground. Its breath smelled strongly of rotten fish and had a number of teeth bigger than Farrans own hand. Reacting on instinct, the hunter lifting his weapon and fired right away!

Farran stumbled back as the beast, which he could now tell was a deadly nadder fell forwards with an arrow sticking out of its soft belly. Though far from dead, it screeched and roared, focused more on its pain than it was the hunter. Knowing all too well that every rider and dragon had to be looking in his direction, he ran back the way he came as fast as he could.

The thunderous screams of an army of furious dragons echoed through the forest and unleashed their wicked fire at the human who had tried to kill one of their own. Though the forest was dense and most shots never made it past the first few scattered rows of trees, a few managed to shoot past Farran. A couple by mere inches, nearly burning his skin. Though they were too big to follow the hunter into the forest, it didn't stop their pursuer from running until the point they could no longer see him. That was where the riders came in.

…...

"Whoa! What just happened?" Hiccup exclaimed sharply, not noticing the hunter that had just attacked them. No-one had. By the time they had turned their heads, the wild dragons had fired everything at the fleeing enemy. The bright balls of fire and smoke trails made it near impossible to see. But one of them had a good guess on the hunters identity.

"Farran happened." Heather sighed, but brightened up. "At least he never made it to the ships. That's good."

"Uh, and how exactly is that a good thing?" Snotlout asked in his usual annoyed fashion. "Seriously! How is having a trigger-happy hunter on the edge, that just took down a nadder a good thing? Huh?"

"Because if he's here then he can't have told Ryker about Heather!" Hiccup realised. "Okay, everyone fan out and find him! We can't let him get off the island! If he does, Heather, we're pulling you out from the dragon hunters!"

"Don't worry, he won't get far." Heather assured him before Windshear took off and was the first to fly over the forest. The others followed suit behind her, other than Fishlegs who chose to stay behind and see if he could heal up the nadder. Perhaps the arrow hadn't entered its body too deeply, meaning it would make a full recovery.

"Hiccup I can't see much of anything down there!" Astrid called out. "How are we supposed to find this guy if we can't even see him?"

"Simple! We'll get ahead of him, land in the forest then flush him back to the beach and corner him!"

"Back to Fishlegs?" Snotlout asked incredulously. "I mean not that I'm complaining but..."

"Don't worry, I'm sure that Fishlegs and Meatlug are more than a match for a single hunter! Besides, we may want to hurry before the pack of vicious vengeful dragons find him first."

….

Minutes passed and Farran remained elusive. The riders and dragons combed the forest from the sky, unable to find any trace of the hunter. Choosing a more direct approach, they dismounted their dragons and searched on foot. It was likely that he would be heading deeper into the forest, just like any other cowardly dragon hunter. Just as well for the hunter that he was not like most grunts.

Knowing that the closer he was to danger the safer he was, Farran hadn't actually run all that far from the beach. He had barely made it fifty meters away before dropping and waiting for all the dragons to pass him overhead. It was a very good thing that none of them had managed to pick up his scent, otherwise he would have been found right away. His luck seemed to be all over the place today. At this rate, chances were the ongoing pattern of good luck, bad luck, good luck would continue until he was out off of this foul island.

Getting back up, he slowly returned to the beach, unsure what force remained to guard the downed nadder. Surely not as big as the force searching the forest.

He soon found that the only force remaining was none other than one rider, a somewhat hefty one, and a gronckle. Both of which were more focused on their patient than anything else. Taking his chances he snuck past them and quickly tried to grab some extra gear. More arrows and a shield. The hunter looked back, making sure that he was not the focus of attention. Thankfully, he was not.

Farran continued to press his chances and searched for a rowboat, or more likely one that was still capable of getting him back to the ships in time. Every second that passed sealed his fate. For once, time was not a luxury he could afford. But neither could he rush things lest he wanted to give himself away to the rider and his pet. So irritably, he forced himself to keep a calm and steady pace and continued to look up and down the beach. As viewed before, most rowboats were far too damaged to even make it ten feet on the ocean waves. But there was still hope for the hunter. There was one rowboat still standing flipped over not so far away. It seemed to be in one piece but there was only one way to know for sure.

He silently dashed towards the vessel and reached it in seconds. He checked on the rider one last time before carefully attempting to flip the boat back over. The wooden object was heavy for the hunter but he managed to get it back on its bottom hull. The boat silently scraped against the sand as Farran pushed it into the water. After grabbing a couple of nearby oars, he got ready to row to safety.

"Going somewhere?"

Farran immediately turned and aimed the crossbow at the voice coming from above. The bulky rider atop his gronckle stared back at him fifteen feet in the air. He did not look happy. Probably had something to do with seriously injuring one of the nadders, Farran assumed. The two said nothing else but both were prepared to fire at a moments notice.

Looking out the corner of his eye, Farran spotted something lying on the ground next to him. A bola. Essentially a couple of metal balls attached to a length of rope. Useful for bringing down flying targets, like the one in range staring him in the face. Thankfully the rider did not seem to notice, giving him a brief chance. And unlike himself, the large Viking decided to go for a more diplomatic approach.

"Look, I get it. You're trapped on the wrong island with the enemy. But that doesn't mean that this needs to end in violenc-"

Not giving the rider the chance to finish, Farran fired his weapon. Miraculously, the gronckle just barely managed to avoid getting hit as the Viking on top let out a high pitched scream, nearly falling off in the process. Taking his cue, Farran grabbed the bola, swung it above his head and let go. His aim was true as the bola wrapped round a leg and a wing of the dragon, causing it to spin out of control. The hunter didn't even wait for the dragon to hit the ground as he jumped into the rowboat and rowed. Looking back he saw the Viking try to get the bola off of his dragon with a knife. Seeing this, Farran realised that the probability of him escaping before the rider would free his dragon was low. But he'd rather die escaping than be taken prisoner.

Something the closest wild dragon took as an invitation.

Farran wasn't even aware of the newest beast to appear until it tried to land on the boat, not quite realising that it wasn't a stable rock until it put a small portion of its weight down on the stern, nearly tipping it over and sending the hunter into the water. Farran had already dealt with a nadder and a gronckle. Now the monstrous nightmare was next in line.

The enormous foe took to the air, climbing high into the sky before plummeting at a frightening speed back towards the boat and tried to bite Farran in half.

The hunter, unable to defend himself dropped and hid underneath the plank seat. Standing on his feet made him a sitting duck, more so than he already was. Again the dragon struck, slowing down in order to try and strike the hunter. Its head swooped down and ripped the plank seat from the boat rocking it violently. When it tried again, Farran tried his crossbow and fired when the nightmare tried for the third time. The arrow hit its mark and wedged itself in the lower gums of the beast. Farran reloaded and fired again and again, using up most of his arrows. Only one other pierced the dragons flesh, barely nipping the neck. Not daring to risk any more injury it retreated back to the island, which was a fair distance away by the time Farran had managed to drive the wild animal off.

Of course he wasn't done yet. Another rider approached and Farran was ready to shoot. It did surprise him that the dragon before him this time was shiny and silver.

"Farran, listen to me!" She called out. "You need to drop your weapon and surrender!"

Farran did not reply.

"I'm serious! That nadder you shot back at the beach was the leader of the pack! If you don't give up the rest of them will burn you to a crisp!"

As if on cue, multiple roars and screeches could be heard from the island. Farran looked away for a second to see several flying dots, most likely heading this way. As a guess he figured he had minutes at the most before they arrived. Good to know that Heather was telling the truth. For once.

"Farran!"

...

"Farran, answer me!"

The hunters response came at the pull of his trigger, bringing forth the next confrontation. He had limited arrows, limited options and no chance of winning. He had beaten every opponent so far but even if he overcame this one, the pack would still reach him and kill him. At least he would go down fighting. As the razorwhip sped at him, he loaded his arrow without emotion and fired. The arrow grazed its claw, hardly slowing it down at all. Farran expected to be impaled by spikes or blasted by its fire next. But rather than do any of that the metal beast slammed into him head first.

A gigantic 3000 pound dragon flying through the air at impossible speed against a single hunter weighing in at 160 pounds acting as an immovable wall. Anyone could tell what could happen next. The hunter felt the weight of the beast crash into him and went flying. The impact was far from painless and Farran was sure he had broken a rib. It hurt enough to feel like it. His crossbow had flung out of his hands and into the ocean, sinking to the bottom of the ocean, as did its owner. Farran found it harder and harder to focus. Harder to fight the water as the weight of his armour dragged him further and further down into the murky waters. Expecting his end, Farran closed his eyes and waited to see if the gods would grant him the right to enter Valhalla.

He blacked out just before a pair of silver talons grabbed both his arms.

./././././././././././././.

Happy , slightly late, New Year everyone! Make any new year resolutions? Cause I sure did! And that was to try and write more words per chapter. Before I usually wrote 2300 words for every chapter submitted. Today I made it to 3000, not including this message. Not a bad start, but I think I can do better. So for now I hope this chapter is enough to keep you entertained until next time. Until then, farewell :)