AN: Yo~ Been meaning to upload this for the past few days but... my girlfriend came over and her boyfriend came over as well as a few of my friends so I had to play host... and then we think someone died downstairs as huge flies attacked the building... it's been a mess of a few days.
Anyway, here's the chapter. Not as happy with it as I thought I'd be Xl damned characters kept changing the script on me... and yeah. Also this chapter deals with dissociation, just warning ya there.
Chapter 6 may be up by tonight, or sometime tomorrow, but will have a delay with chapter 7 as I've got two appointments tomorrow~ Yay~
Ahem, Enjoy (or not)
"words" – English
"words" – Icelandic
words – thoughts (opposite in dream)
Chapter 5. How to Defame a Book (In Style)
Cuddling into Adrianna's tall form, I sighed in fulfillment, he long arms pressing me closer, my legs tangling with her own.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing the top of my head, her hand moving down my side to lie on the lower curve of my stomach, her laughter vibrating through me. "And I love you, too."
Chuckling at her silly antics, I brushed her hand away so I could move further up her body to place a tender kiss against her lips.
I felt entirely at peace as I relaxed into her, a strange hollow thought informing me I couldn't. Brushing it aside, I snuggled my face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. "I've missed you," I sighed, trying to draw in her scent only to smell nothing.
Why did I miss her so much? She's right here.
Feeling her arms tighten around me, I squirmed as it became uncomfortable.
"Adrianna, stop it," I squeaked, feeling the air in my lungs being squeezed out.
Starting to feel claustrophobic I struggled more violently, restless with my need to be free as fear began clawing at my insides.
"Bearpup? Hey… what's wrong?" I wheezed, huffing and puffing as air became harder to draw in, and started to hurt. "Bearpup, STOP!" I shouted, lifting my head to try and look at her, to tell her I'm serious, to make her stop.
I can't see. I can't SEE, I thought with growing horror, my arms flailing against the mass in front of me, no longer sure it was my girlfriend's arms that surrounded me, trapping me, hurting me.
I felt a rib crack as blood poured into my lungs, my already racked and shortened breaths becoming watery, and I was scared, so scared. "Please," I whimpered, "stop."
"I love it when they fight back."
BANG!
Sitting upright in bed, I gasped and heaved, eyes flowing with tears as I tried to orient myself.
"A-Adrianna? Bearpup? Where are you…" I whimpered, sobbing into the bedspread crushed between my hands as I felt small, so very small, and weak.
"Adrianna! Please! This isn't funny!"
My eyes darted about the unfarmiliar surroundings shrouded in shadow, nauseated by the spinning in my head and the deep terrifying confusion I felt. Noticing the shadows almost seeming to move, my heart rate climbed.
Bolting off the bed, away from the aversive setting, only to fall as my feet fell short of where they should have landed, my legs feeling WRONG. Shorter. Weaker. Stumbling, crawling along, I made it to the stairs, sliding and falling down them as my arms too fell short of where they were supposed to reach, my limbs not working or feeling how they are supposed to.
Landing in a heap at the bottom, I flinched as much from the loudness of my movement as I did from the pain. Seeing, from my new position, a warm fire burnin in the heart, I knew but didn't know would be there, I stared, burning the flickering flames into my mind as conscious thought seemed just out of reach. Something isn't right.
Moving slowly towars the fire, I flinched with each loud sound of my collapsing movements along the wooden floor, unadjusted to the awkwardness of my limbs, only to freeze in paralyzing terror as I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the stirring of something on the large resting chair by the fire. The fear moved from my tensed muscles to chill me down to my bones as the stirring revealed itself as an enormous man pulled himself up to twice the height of the chair.
Swallong the scream in my chest to keep it from breaking past my teeth, I hoped if I was quiet enough they would not notice me, forget I was here, move away from me, or ignore me.
Those hopes were shattered as the giant looked sharply down upon my prone form, pulling a bone-rattling shudder from my limbs, nearly convulsing in fear.
"P-Please no," I whimpered, hiccuping as my diaphragm spasmed along with the rest of my jelly-like body, tears drowning my shirt in wetness as I shook still.
The enormous man rushed towards me, hands the size of boulders reaching for me as he collapsed into half his size to get to me.
I scrambled back, heart jumping up into my throat as I screamed and shouted, throwing whatever my limbs, my something-wrong-with-them limbs, could grab hold of even as everything nearby constantly seemed within reach with my hands still falling short. "Nononono. No! Don't touch me!"
Clawing and scratching as hands enclosed around my form, I felt bile creep up my throat, clogging my throat as I was lifted into the air. "Help, please, someone! Anyone! Help me..." I blubbered, sinking blunt nails and teeth into barrelled arms.
"Hiccup, shh, it's okay," the giant mumbled to me in a strange language and I-
Freezing all my muscles, I quieted, pulling my hands and teeth away as I tried to swallow the bile down my raw and swollen throat.
"H-Hiccup?" Stoic the Vast mumbled as I went limp in his arms, one hand holding me while the other rubbed my back, my side and my cold arms.
Swallowing convulsively, I readjusted my mental map of my body so as to stop the dizzyness and nausea my confusion and depth perception had been causing.
"S-Sorry… Dad," I coraked, swallowing again as I he sat back down in the chair by the fire, resting me on his knee.
Stoic considered me with a great amount of concern in his eyes as I patted the little dents in his flesh that I had made in my panic, making sure I hadn't broken the skin.
"D-" he seemed to consider his words as he looked me over. "Do you want to see the Elder?"
Shaking my head slowing side to side, I gripped a bit his beard in hand, quirking the corner of my mouth up at the bows of grass still tied into it. "It…" I sighed, clearing my throat and rubbing a hand over my still damp eyes. "It was just a nightmare," I whispered softly, the ache in my chest worsening just a bit as my mind reminded me they had been memories, not simply subconscious plights.
Clearing his throat with a rumble, Stoic handed me a cup of warm yak milk. "I –ah." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Me too."
Gazing up at him blankly, I simply cuddled the warm cup to my chest, having always been weirded out by heated up milk.
"I uh, dreamt of when your mother was…" He cleared his throat. "Taken from us."
Petting his thumb with my little hand, I felt myself numbing out, mind kind of just icing over as everything was too much. Normally I would have made myself a cup of tea… but normally I woke up and knew I wasn't Ryan anymore.
"Is this…" Stoic hummed, "because of what happened today?"
Blinking slowly at the huge man, I yawned, barely aware I did anything today. Ohh, Snotlout and… stuff… yeah.
Shaking my head slowly, I raised a hand to cover my yawn. "Have…" I huffed, "lots… of nightmares." Rubbing my eyes with a dry part of my sleeve, I handed Stoic the milk back and went to hop off his knee. "Happens… most nights."
Stoic stopped me with a hand on my shoulder as he set aside the mug, uncertainty taking over his features. "Would you like to sleep next to me tonight?"
Feeling my pride wilt a bit within my soul, I bit my lip, knowing it was only really acceptable since I was five.
Shaking my head gently, I tried not to (whilst also trying to) feel guilty, uncerntainty warring with my decision as his face dropped and he nodded solemnly. He probably needed the comfort just as much as I did… but my pride really wouldn't budge on this.
"I can stay with you until you fall asleep though," I told him sleepily, smiling up at him as the warmth of the fire removed the last of the chill from my bones.
Feeling a light tap against my head, I grinned cheekily as a spark of humour lit his eyes.
"Off ta beg with ya then," he barked, chuckling lightly even as I heard the strain in his voice. Glancing over my shoulder at him as I properly hopped off his knee, he glared at me warmly. "None of that funny business. I'm the parent here."
Scampering off up the stairs, I glanced back to Stoic once more. "Hey, Dad?"
"Yes, son?"
I smiled warmly at his almost exasperated tone. "I love you."
Hearing him chuckle, I finished racing up to my bed, just making it under the covers as I heard his gruff reply.
"I love you too."
"Rough night, lad?"
Rolling my eyes at Gobber, I rubbed a heavy hand across my cheek, smudging some oil in place. My limbs still felt wrong from the after affects of the dream, and it was making it that much harder to work on the simple sheepskin bag.
Hearing a sigh behind me, I glanced over my shoulder to see Gobber leaning against one of the workbenches and watching me.
"What?" I snapped with more bite to my tone than I intended.
"Ye can talk t' me about it, ye know," he exhaled, his stone tooth clicking against another tooth letting me know his was frowning.
"About what, Gobber?" I huffed, trying to line one of the pins up on the rough cut. "It's just a nightmare."
Feeling a rough hand dwarf my shoulder, I resolutely stared down at my hands, willing them to stop trembling.
"Ye're done for today."
"What?" I yelped in outrage. "Y-you can't!"
"I can an' I will." Gobber took the sheepskin out of my hands along with the pin as he turned me to look at him. "I won' have ye injurin' yerself in my workshop just 'cause ye don' know yer limits."
I glared up at him waiting as I crossed my hands over my chest, shoulders hunched. I was actually afraid to return to the house or let my mind wander or think. I just wanted a few quiet hours here in the forge to clear my mind, stay in the rhythm I had made for myself, so I could remember this was my life now. There is no going back.
"Go home," he stated with finalty, his mustache swinging as he tilted his head down to look me in the eyes.
I looked away, clenching my still twitching hands, and sighed, trying to reason with my emotions that he was just looking out for me.
And I continued to tell my emotions that as I turned to the hanger where I put my apron back.
And I still continued as I turned back around, with Gobber working on one of the axes that had been dropped off, the Book of Dragons precariously sitting on the edge of a stool.
And then still I continued as I left the forge without a bakwards glance, my yak fur vest considerably fuller than it had been when I'd arrived.
Halfway back to the house I began questioning my actions and finally calming down from the temper tantrum. I know I didn't throw myself about screaming but still… I felt the book hidden beneath my vest weighing more and more as I walked.
What if I've done something really bad? Gobber mut've had a reason for not letting me read it before. What if this is treason? What if-
A tap on my shoulder had me leaping out of my skin with an undignified squeak.
Spinning around, I prepared to bolt in the other direction… or deny everything if it were Gobber asking for the book back.
But no, it was just Snotlout.
Letting out a huge sigh of relief, I gave him a lopsided smile, awkwardly rubbing the back of my head to cover up my behaviour. "H-Hey there… Snotlout."
"H-Hey, Hiccup…" Snotlout returned nervously, one of his hands rubbing his arm, as he looked anywhere but at me.
"Is… something wrong?"
"Wha- N-No… what gave you that idea?" he laughed hollowly, his eye movements becoming more frantic.
One of the other villagers walked past and he flinched, watching them as they moved further away from us. When he seemed to decide they were far enough away, he looked about anxiously and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the forest edge.
Waiting silently after he released me, I observed him pace back and forth pulling his hair whilst I leaned back against a tree. "Snotlout?"
At his name, he froze and finally looked at me, wide-eyed and sad, his bottom lip jutting out as it trembled.
Worried, I moved forward with my arms raised, offering to hug him, only for him to shake his head and look away, his shoulders hunching defensively.
"My dad said we can't be friends," he mumbled brokenly. I was really surprised that we had bonded so much in one day for him to actually come up to me instead of just avoiding me now. "B-But I don't want that…"
Letting my arms hang weakly at my sides, I moved a little closer. "We can still be friends," I insisted, feeling so concerned about this small sad child.
He looked down at me sadly, not seeming to believe my words. What am I even doing here right now? "How? He said he doesn't want to even see me with you…"
"Well, then we can hang out where we wouldn't be found," I said, rubbing the back of my head again as I questioned my actions. I wasn't that bothered if we couldn't hang out for a while, though I would miss him, but I didn't want him to feel like he can't do what he wants just because his dad said so. He's five, he should be running around, wreaking havoc and just being a kid. Not trying to be a big Viking so young. "Like the field of protective grass we were in yesterday," I murmured, holding up my wrist to bring attention to the braid of Dragon Nip still bound there.
Snotlout rubbed his thumb over his own charm, and smiled weakly. "Yeah?" he asked.
Nodding, I smiled toothily, lacing my fingers behind my head.
"Oof," I wheezed as Snotlout's arms came around me and crushed me to him, removing all the air from my lungs.
"I-I know a bunch of places we could go where my dad wouldn't think to look," he laughed above my head as I tried to hug back but also find a way to reinflate my lungs. "In fact, since you're a lame nerd, we can even go there."
Finally released from my temporary prison, I took in grateful gulps of air until I could respond. "Where is there exactly?"
His face seemed to fight between a look of disgust and fondness as he thought. "Doesn't matter," he huffed, pushing his chest out and his shoulders back. "You'll get along with him fine since you're a nerd, too. At least, I think you are." He looked at me consideringly. "You are a nerd, aren't you?"
I rolled my eyes in response and gestured for him to just take me there. "You'll see."
Arriving at a modest hut, after much sneaking about to avoid the other villagers, I expected Snotlout to knock on the door, or just call out to someone, but no, this is Snotlout. He just walked right in as if it were his own home.
Following more hesitantly after him, I looked about the living area to see no one about before we continued up the stairs. "Can we really just come in here?"
Snotlout threw his hands to the side and scoffed. "Yeeeeah, I do it all the time."
"Is that you Snotlout?" called a maternal voice.
"See?" he murmured back to me. "All the time."
Coming uipon the next landing, I glanced about at all the books and notes and half written on paper, my eyes only then moving about to spot a little Fishlegs and who I presumed to be his mum.
"What are you doing here?" Fishlegs huffed, obviously annoyed, as he turned away from his journal to glare at Snotlout. Even at five years old the journal Fishlegs was holding seemed too small for his hands, and, as I popped my head around from behind Snotlout, that made his fine, neat writing all the more impressive.
"How do you get your runes to look like that?" I asked, forgetting that we were probably intruding upon the larger boy's space.
Mrs Ingerman laughed at the confused expression on Fishlegs's face as she stood and brushed herself off. "Seems I'll 'ave t' get some more apples 'en."
Blinking owlishly at her, I noticed she had been peeling an apple for Fishlegs from her spot on the wooly rug by his bed with an open journal beside her.
"Thanks Mrs Ingerman," Snotlout called, rolling his eyes at me. "Knew you were a nerd," he whispered, an exasperated yet pleased look on his face.
Lightly punching his shoulder, I hid a snort, not wanting to encourage his namecalling, and moved closer to Fishlegs, stopping once I noticed his tense posture.
"Snotlout," Fishlegs growled, eyes angry slits as he considered the other boy in the room. "What are you doing here?"
Said boy in question leaned against the wall beside Fishlegs, smirking with arrogance filling his face. "I come here whenever I want, Fishface."
Fishlegs tensed further at the insulting nickname. "Not since last week, you 'ave, Snotface. Or did you forget what you told the twins?"
The brutish child seemed to think about it a moment, his thick finger tapping his chin before he chuckled and leaned forward. "I only agreed that reading books is lame and un-Viking-like. What's wrong with that? It's the truth."
My gaze darted between the two as they started bantering in earnest. I wasn't sure whether to step in or not as this appeared to be common between them, neither boy getting particularly agitated as they continued, aside from the initial glare from Fishlegs. His tensing up now seemed as if it had been in preparation for the verbal sparring match they had.
"Who's that?" Fishlegs asked, snapping me out of my ruminations as Snotlout smirked triumphantly.
"I'm-"
"He's a nerd like you!" Snotlout laughed snottily.
Sighing at finally being noticed properly only to be ignored again, I smiled indulgently, considering whether to be annoyed or just look around at the various notes and books. Vaguely, I realised Fishlegs must have been the one getting to Johann's ship first and taking all the books and maps.
"Snotlout. You call anyone who doesn't spend all their time punching things a nerd. What relevance does that even have here?"
Blinking at the complex word, I realised I shouldn't be surprised Fishlegs knew the word even at five. What shocked me even more was that Snotlout understood.
"U-Um…" I stuttered, halting their argument over whether a boat craftman counted as a nerd or not, I scuffed my shoe on the wooden floor. Uncomfortable under their wide-eyed and expecting gazes, I tried to be brave. They're just two five-year-olds, I shouldn't even be anxious. Why would they care that I'm awkward. "I'm Hiccup," I mumbled, feeling none of my twenty-eight years of experience, all of it just crumbled into so much ash beneath my social anxiety.
Snotlout laughed and smacked me on the back as Fishlegs just frowned at me. "You're so stupid, Hiccup. Wow."
Frowning at them both, I didn't get it.
"I know," Fishlegs stated, hugley unimpressed. "I'm not an idiot."
"But you asked-"
I was cut off by Fishlegs sigh. "I have no idea what you thought you were doing bringing him here, Snotlout. Even less than what you may have thought thinking you were welcome here either."
"Wha- I know what I was doing!" Snotlout made some sort of weird gesture at me, seeming to expect me to do something.
Giving him a deadpan look, I turned away from them both, sat down in the corner and just started reading whatever book was closest. Cartography: A Guide to Maps.
At this moment, Mrs Ingerman returned up the stairs with a platter of sliced apples on it, dropping it on the end of Fishlegs bed before going back down the stairs.
Why am I here? I could be at home looking over the Book of Dragons right now.
"Is he actually reading that?" Fishlegs whispered to Snotlout as I felt their eyes on me. Annoyed by children. Really what great adulting you do, I thought sarcastically as I opened up to a page on how to draw maps.
I heard a thump in there direction as Snotlot scoffed. "Of course he is. He's a nerd."
Rolling my eyes at this, I looked up and jolted, my head hitting the wall behind me as Fishlegs's face filled my vision. When did he get so close?
"What?" I snapped, head back against the wall to get some space.
Fishlegs squinted his eyes at me and took the book from my hands, wandering away from me once he did. "No one touches my books," he hummed. "Except Mum, but she's okay."
"Really?" I sighed.
"I may… consider lending you one or two… if you had any books you could lend in return," he decreed, his lips upturned smugly.
"No need," I told him, childishly pulling out the Book of Dragons from under my vest. "I have something else I can read."
"No way!" Fishlegs squeaked, dropping to his knees in front of me. "The Book of Dragons! But how?"
"I have my ways," I murmured awkwardly as Snotlout hopped onto Fishlegs's bed, munching some apple slices and looking over at us triumphantly.
"Told you he's a nerd. Don't get why you're fussing so much."
"Snotlout!" Fishlegs whispered, his voice squeaking. "This is the Book of Dragons. We aren't even allowed to look at it until we're old enough for dragon training." His head whipped back around to me. "How did you even get close to this?"
Rubbing the back of my head, I once again regretted my childish behaviour, feeling guilt eat at my insides. "I borrowed it." I'll just put it back as soon as I can. It's fine.
Fishlegs made some sort of strangled noise at that.
"He's the Chief's son. It's really not surprising. I mean… I could have gotten if. You know… if I'd wanted to," Snotlout snorted, rolling his eyes.
"I- I'll let you come over and read as many books as you like," Fishlegs whispered reverentially. "So c-can I look at it with you?"
"You'll share your notes too," I demanded, knowing I had just been allowed access to someone who'll have the largest amount of written knowledge in the future.
"Yes, anything. Anything you want."
Lightly tapping his shoulder with my knuckles, I tried to dispell this awkwardly tense atmosphere. "Okay, okay…"
Pulling my journal from my inner vest pocket with a charcoal pencil, I turned the book to the side so Fishlegs could see it too, making sure that if Snotlout wanted to look over he could see it too, and opened it.
"This is so exciting," Fishlegs giggled.
Smiling nervously, I just took down notes quietly in my journal, making extra notes about each of the dragons that I remembered from the show.
"Pssh, what's so exciting about a bunch of words on paper?" Snotlout grumbled as he pretended not to be looking at the book.
"I could tell you stories about each of the dragons, if you'd prefer," I offered, smiling over at Snotlout. "You know… tales of terror, and stuff."
Fishlegs snorted at that. "We've heard all the tales. You wouldn't be able to tell us any new ones."
I shrugged at that, taking notes on the Thunderdrum as I recalled the episode where Stoic tried to train Thornado to be his dragon. "Have you heard how Gobber lost his limbs?"
"Pssh, yeah, a dragon ate them… I think," Snotlout muttered unsurely.
"Which dragon?" I asked, flipping the page to the next dragon.
"He never said," said Fishlegs.
"Apparently it was the Boneknapper," I hummed, sketching small pictures of the dragon paintings in the book. "It's still hunting him to this day. Searching for the missing piece of its armor that Gobber is using as a belt."
Snotlout scoffed, "You only know that 'cause you're his apprentice."
"What others do you know?" Fishlegs whispered excitably, taking notes now with his own journal.
I slid a sideglance at Fishlegs, and smirked. "There're a tales about some types of dragons larger than a mountain, some larger than two that could control other dragons." Noticing Snotlout leaning a bit off the bed watching me, I smiled a little more. "One tale is about a dragon queen known as 'The Red Death' who sits in the bottom of a hollow mountain demanding the other dragons feed her."
"What happens if they don't?" Snotlout whispered.
"She EATS them," I told with a loud clap of my hands, snickering as Snotlout flinched.
"In the tale are the dragons freed?" Fishlegs asked curiously, his brow furrowed as he took notes of, I assumed, the Book of Dragons.
"Oh yes," I murmured, amused. "A group of Vikings fight The Red Death and free the dragons." I smiled as I paused for dramatic effect. "They fight her from atop dragons."
"Whoa," Fishlegs whispered. "Those Vikings would have to be crazy. No wonder it's only a legend."
I sighed at this, flipping to the next page. "Dragons aren't all bad. We could ride them if we just treated them nicely."
Snotlout and Fishlegs laughed at my words, informing me that I was insane, and that not even the twins would think that.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," I huffed. "I'll have you eating your words when I do become friends with one."
This set them off into more giggles so I sulkily continued making notes of the book as I ignored them.
I had hoped that at least children would maybe believe me, but no. This is going to be an uphill battle.
Their laughter begain to die off once I made it to the Night Fury page, only to turn to gasps of horror as I drew a picture of toothless in it using the charcoal. If only I had some ink…
"What are you doing?" Fishlegs gasped. "This is an artifact of dragon knowledge!"
"I'm updating it," I stated blandly as I continued drawing. "Like I did with the other pages."
"You what?!" he squeaked, Snotlout looking at us blankly, not getting it.
Flipping through to the other pages like the Deadly Nadder where I wrote about approaching them slowly and carefully from behind, that they'll let you smooth their spikes, and to the Whispering Death where I wrote that once every hundred years they'll lay an egg much larger than the others that becomes the Screaming Death, and other pages where I wrote some more notes. At this point Fishlegs was hyperventillating, and Snotlout was scoffing at me.
"Bork the Bold wrote this. He knew everything about dragons," Fishlegs stated dramatically. "You're just a kid, I bet you've never even seen a dragon."
I sighed and continued making notes on the Night Fury. Technically, I had only seen one dragon in person, but I had seen all of the dragons from the show. Besides, the teens in dragon training could probably test some of these things out for me… if they read it… and if Gobber doesn't kill me.
"That aside, no one has seen a Night Fury. No one!"
"Isn't that the point?" Snotlout asked. "That no one can see them."
"That's just because they attach under the cover of darkness. You'd be able to see one just fine in the day," I countered only for Snotlout to roll his eyes. Arguing with a five-year-old, how low I have fallen. "You know, one of the dragon riders from the legend rides a Night Fury."
"Oh yeeeeah, I totally believe that. And I bet one of them even rides a monstrous Nightmare," Snotlout scoffed.
"They do. He's a Jorgenson."
"What?!" Snotlout shouted, scrambling off the bed to grab my shoulders. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"That's just a legend," Fishlegs huffed. "One I've never even heard of. I bet it's not even true."
"There's also an Ingerman who rides a Gronkle," I continued thoughtfully. If I told a few stories of the dragon riders now, later I may save myself some trouble when they realise it was true, just no a legend and instead a story about them. When I get to the part where the TV series starts, I could probably just tell them I've heard a story about certain dragons before or… I'll have to work out how to spin this, stories won't account for everything…
"Uhm, no. I would know if one of my ancestors rode a dragon," Fishlegs laughed bitingly. "I've heard all my family's legends."
"Yeah," Snotlout agreed, though hope remained in his innocent eyes. "I bet one of them was even a Hofferson."
"Yeah, she rode a Nadder. And there were two Thorstons who rode a Zippleback."
Fishlegs huffed out a laugh. "Sure, with the rivalry between the Hoffersons and the Jorgensons, I'm sure a team like that could work out."
Smiling softly at Fishlegs's argument, I recalled that Astrid and Snotlout really didn't get along most of the time. I liked that part about them quite a bit during the series. "It's just a legend I heard, maybe it was before the rivalry."
"Who even told you this legend?" Fishlegs asked haughtily.
"My mum," I answered, knowing she wouldn't return for another fifteen years and not the least bit bothered from lying about her.
"You don't even have a mum," Snotlout accused, whilst Fishlegs appeared as if he'd swallowed a rock and looked at Snotlout in horror.
Feighning hurt, I laid a hand across my heart. "You wound me," I intoned, trying to be serious even as the smirk crept across my face.
"Wh- B- Snotlout! You can't say that!" Fishlegs shouted, confused.
I patted his shoulder and shook my head in pity. I wasn't hurt, or offended. I was genuinely amused. "It's okay, Fislegs. I'll just steal his mum."
"Wha- you can't!"
I poked my tongue out at him.