AUTHOR'S NOTE:

• This story is a bit shorter than the others. I haven't come up with something "long" that I ended up liking enough to post. Period. I've written quite a bit of short-stories and half-baked plots, but nothing I like enough to post for others to read. So . . . sorry about my lack of prompts/story updates.

• This was just a small attempt at clearing my mind to get me into a writing mood. I could have done more with it, but I'm satisfied enough to let this stand alone.

• I do not own How To Train Your Dragon or Kingdom Hearts. HTTYD belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell. Kingdom Hearts belongs to Sqaure Enix, Tetsuya Nomura, and Disney.

He hated the winter. It was too cold, too miserable, and food became limited. You'd think after moving in with the humans, it would be so much easier to get a full belly. If anything, it made it slightly more difficult. Sure, if they didn't feed you, you could always go out and get your own meal. But in this cold it was a far harder task to partake in. This was made even more so when you're barely the size of a bobcat. A flying, fire-breathing bobcat, but that was besides the point being made here.

The point was that, plain and simple, Spitfire HATED the long winter months.

Being small had some advantages though. He could get into smaller places the other dragons could not, he required less to feel full, and Terrible Terrors were so low maintenance when compared to their larger cousins that some Vikings had a small colony's worth of the little sharpshooters living up in their rafters. The downside to being so small was that he generated far less body heat than the larger dragon breeds and people were less likely to take him seriously. He was generally fine with the latter, but the first one was the key reason that he loathed the winter solstice. Being buried alive in snow didn't sound pleasant in the least. And being so cold that if he shivered just right that all of his scales would potentially fall off was even less of a desired mental image. Just thinking about it caused the little green dragon to shiver despite being in his favorite sleeping place.

If there was one thing Spitfire loved more than a full belly, it was when his keeper had a full belly. Not because it meant Sora was going to continue living (although that was a plus) but because if Sora's stomach was full, then it was going to generate even more heat than it normally did. The brunette had gotten out of bed just long enough to grab a few bites of breakfast before passing out again. Spitfire really loved that the boy slept like a rock and could sleep for upwards of ten or more hours without feeling any of the groggy repercussions that usually came along from getting so much sleep at once. Sora would then turn himself around and wear himself ragged throughout the course of the day between sparring with the wild blond girl, running errands around Berk to keep himself busy while the chief's offspring worked all day, and pulling pranks with (or against) the eerily similar blond Viking siblings.

Snorting at the thought, Spitfire adjusted his back legs to a more comfortable position and listened to the gurgling of Sora's stomach. While most people sought their dragon companions out for warmth, the role was in reverse in their relationship. While most people rode their dragons to the skies overhead, Spitfire rode Sora's head around town or on one of the boy's strange gliding excursions. While most dragons felt protective of their chosen human companions, Spitfire felt protected by Sora. But make no mistake, Spitfire was still as possessive of his human as any other dragon.

And Sora had some strange sleeping habits. While he normally slept on the floor next to the firepit, for some odd reason, the brunette had decided he was going to sleep on his back on a wide horizontal wooden beam next to the dying fire. Thankfully, Sora seemed to have enough since even in his sleep not to roll to the side and potentially be set on fire. His right leg hung off of the side. One of his three blankets had already fallen, left forgotten on the floor. His left arm was behind his head, acting as a makeshift pillow since he had forgotten to bring the actual one up on the beam with him after eating some breakfast. He was laying on top of one blanket while the other was wound up and laying haphazardly over the lower half of his body. His right arm was across his chest since he'd originally been sleeping his side and rolled onto his back at some point during his nap. Sora's mouth was open, causing him to make the occasional snoring sound while a bubble of what was most likely snot coming out of his left nostril was inflating and deflating with every breath. On some nights, Sora could snore loud enough to rival Stoick the Vast. Sometimes it seemed like their snoring was echoing one another. Thankfully, Sora didn't snore anywhere near as frequently as the Viking chief and was more prone to his unconscious muttering late at night.

Even in his sleep, Sora still mumbled and would occasionally shift around. Spitfire was still learning when a certain muscle was becoming tense which body part was going to move as a result of the pent of energy. Spitfire wasn't complaining though when he felt the boy's calloused fingers dance down his spine while his nails raking against his small scales. The Terrible Terror crooned in a pleased manner as he stretched his front legs out before him before going limp on the boy's stomach once again.

Despite it being winter, Spitfire was in paradise.

At the moment, the pair were the only two in the house. Stoick was off doing chief related things, Hiccup had left just a few minutes ago to head off to the forge, and Toothless had left along with him to make sure he got their safely. Depending on how cold it was outside would determine if the Night Fury would remain outside of the forge today or head back to the house until it was time for Hiccup to come home. As far as Spitfire knew, Astrid wasn't going to come by and make use of Sora's combat skills for sparring practice. None of the other Terrors around town really cared for Spitfire, so it wasn't likely that they would bother him. Meaning they had the entire day to sleep and Spitfire could enjoy the warmth of a human's full belly.

He was about to doze off to sleep again when Sora started mumbling again. While Spitfire didn't understand most of the words the boy would grumble while lost within the realm of dreams, he did catch a word or two every once in a while. The boy normally dreamed peacefully enough too. Sora's right hand jerked away from Spitfire's spine and went over his head. He was almost expecting to see the boy's key-shaped blade to appear, but instead the hand fell over Sora's chest and his finger wrung themselves into the fabric of his shirt. Spitfire watched curiously as a bright light went off. Not knowing what was going on or why, Spitfire sat upright on Sora's stomach and chirped curiously. The light was as bright as it was brief. After a few seconds of nothing happening, Spitfire dismissed the whole thing as nothing more than a fluke or a figment of his imagination before getting himself situated comfortably again to await the tender pull of sleep.

Alas, those plans were thrown out the window when Spitfire felt a rather violent vibration go through him. Fearing the sensation had come from Sora, Spitfire sat upright again and leaned forward to examine the boy's face. His snot bubble from earlier was still present and he looked as dazed as he always did when lost within his dream's hold. The Terror quirked a scaled eyebrow and tilted his head to the right. Spitfire made a curious whirring sound as a small attempt at waking the slumbering brunette. But that was like trying to move a boulder with a small water gun; useless and wound take a long time before you saw even the tiniest of results.

A rapid, foreign chatter went off next to the dragon. Spitfire blinked several times before turning his head to come face-to-face with something blue, black, and fuzzy. The Terrible Terror gave an alarmed squawk as he fell onto his side on top of Sora's stomach. Spitfire wasn't given much time to pull himself back up again before the blue thing turned its wedge-shaped cranium to look at Sora's slumbering face.

Not that it wasn't looking at him, Spitfire could get a better view of the furry monster. It stood at around 3 feet 6 inches tall and was three different shades of blue. It was coated with blue fur, with light blue patches around its eyes, a light blue patch running from under its chin down to its stomach, darker patches on the back of its head and on its back as well. A domed navy round nose rests in the center of the thing's face, The black posts Spitfire had seen earlier was the creature's large eyes that were either solid black or his pupils were so large at the moment that they overtook the rest of his eye. Probably the first option. The creature had clawed hands and stubby legs that have shorter claws themselves. A stubby tail could be seen jutting out of its rear end. His long, rabbit-like ears were pink on the inside and each had a small niche missing in them.

Not sure, or what, this thing was, Spitfire made a soft tittering sound to try and gain the blue thing's attention. And, sure enough, the creature looked over at him as if it was only just now noticing the Terrible Terror's presence. Spitfire was used to that sort of treatment, so he was miffed about being overlooked. But to be overlooked by something that was about the same size as he was was a new one for the books. Whatever this thing was, it grinned at him, showing two rows of small, sharp, pearly white teeth set in a wide mouth. Whether it was a sadistic grin or one of innocent amusement had yet to be determined. "H - h - hi..." Spitfire blinked several times, unsure how the creature could speak the same language as the humans. Unsure of whether or not this creature had ill-intent, Spitfire inhaled slowly, preparing to build gas up in his mouth. The blue creature stared at him, its ears going backwards as it bared its teeth in a snarl.

"What's go'n on . . .?"

Spitfire froze up and jerked his attention back to Sora. The brunette was slowly bringing himself forth from his deep slumber. He raised his head, causing his snot bubble to pop, and blinked slowly. His eyes were out of focus for a few seconds. A silly grin slipped across his face even before the dazed expression wore away. "What er you do'n here, Stitch?" Judging by his slurred language, Sora wasn't fully awake yet. The blue thing, apparently named Stitch, dropped his snarl for another grin that could almost rival one of Sora's. "Stitch here 'cause Sora called for Stitch." Spitfire didn't understand what that meant, but if Sora called for Stitch, then that would mean the little blue fur ball was a friend . . . right? Whatever the case may be, Sora didn't appear to alarmed by Stitch's present.

Sora's groggy smile became a little lopsided as he put his head back down. He put his right arm over his eyes. "Sora sleepy. Stitch play nice." Stitch's grin widened to show his teeth again. Spitfire wasn't sure if he liked that grin or not, but he figured he could at least get more sleep. Stitch looked to Spitfire before hopping down from the support beam with ease. The little blue fuzzball skittered off toward the kitchen, chattering along the way in some language Spitfire didn't understand. The little green dragon looked to Sora's face, shrugged his knobby shoulders, and hopped down from their perch to follow Stitch into the kitchen.

Several minutes passed before a noise split through the air. Sora was a hard sleeper, so the most he did was roll onto his side after a lapse in his snoring. Back in the kitchen, Spitfire was sitting on the table, staring over the edge at a broken clay mug. Stitch had found it and threw it over his shoulder, disregarding the crude pottery as inedible and continued to scour through the Haddock kitchen for a snack or two. Spitfire didn't really like where this was going, but the mischievous part in him that all Terrible Terrors were known to have was eating away at him for a chance at some action. Well, so long as Stitch didn't destroy the Haddock household, then they should be okay.

. . . Right?

Shaking his head, Spitfire flew over to the nearest window and sat down on the windowsill. Stitch wasn't too far behind as he literally climbed up the wall and peeked outside through the glass. As fun as it would be to cause a little mayhem to make the day more lively, as previously explained, Spitfire hated the cold. Spitfire shrugged his knobby shoulders again before flying off to land gently on Sora's stomach again. Stitch watched the little green Terror take off before heading for the front door. He wanted out! Stitch hated sitting around and doing nothing and his temperamental side was showing through. Why would Sora call for him and then fall right back to sleep knowing he was there? Muttering something in Tantalog, Stitch pushed the front door open. No sooner had he done that did he slam it shut again.

Stitch didn't like the cold.

Back in Hawaii, it was always warm and sunny. Snow was not common back home. But he had experienced the snow once before. It was nice, but only with friends. And with Sora sleeping and that weird flying green thing being of no assistance, Stitch was in dire need of something to do.

Grumbling under his breath, Stitch got down on all fours and took off back toward Sora and the flying reptile. But he stopped when he saw a flight of stairs. Lilo's room was upstairs back home. But this wasn't home. But stairs always lead somewhere. Stitch quirked an ear, looked to Sora and the green flying thing, and started up the stairs. They were smaller than the ones back home. And there were a lot more of them on top of that. Still, he knew better than to just barge around somebody's house. Stitch was built for destruction, but he was slowly learning to stave off the urges thanks to Lilo. That didn't mean those urges weren't there though.

The house was so different from Lilo's that it tingled several of Stitch's sharp senses. The air wasn't humid, so it tasted different. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet even if he walked upright like he traditionally preferred. The cold winds outside shook the shingles of the roof overhead. The air smelt of salt, fish, sweat, and something else Stitch couldn't determine. That flying green thing that was sitting on Sora's stomach smelt similar to the new smell, but it wasn't quite the same. Whoever the owner of the new scent was, they currently weren't home at the moment. Stitch just assumed it was another flying reptile thing. Probably bigger than the green one judging by the strength of the stench.

The house did have two human scents lingering within as well. One of them was clearly the dominate of the two. It was a stronger stench and a lot of the things around the house were built for someone of a large stature judging by the massive chair near the stairs. There was a smaller one next to it, but their wasn't a very strong smell coming from it. Stitch climbed into the smaller one and sat down. His ears perked forward as he looked around the rest of the house from his new perch. He could hear Sora snoring quietly. Ignoring that for the time being, Stitch went back to focusing on the rest of the interior.

Most of the house was overpowered by the smell of the largest human and whatever the other flying reptile was. Aside from Sora and his little green friend's smell, there was another stench in the air. It smelt like a mixture of the large man's and the unknown creature. Whoever it was, they were human, so it was safe to assume the large man was somehow related to the smaller human. Probably a parent or uncle. The smaller human's relation with the unknown creature's scent was something Stitch could not determine on scent alone, so he left the subject alone until they returned later today. There was no telling how long Stitch would be here after all.

Stitch climbed down from the smaller chair and wondered back over toward Sora. As much as Stitch wanted to explore the new house, he also wanted Sora to get up. Giving a muted huff, Stitch climbed the wooden support beams with ease and settled down on Sora's right side. Spitfire twittered on the boy's stomach, but soon returned to his own quiet snores upon realizing that the blue creature meant Sora no harm. Stitch wedged himself up against the boy's side, placing the side of his head on top of the boy's arm. The brunette's arm twitched before it wound itself around Stitch's torso. At first, Stitch softly growled at the contact. He only let Lilo hug him. After a few seconds, Stitch's growling ceased. Honestly, he felt too tired right now for some reason to protest. Stitch smacked his lips, reminding himself that he had skipped breakfast this morning, before letting his eyes close. It wasn't long before he too drifted off into the realm of dreams, listening to Sora's rhythmic snores and Spitfire's quiet chirps.

Whenever Sora finally did awake a couple of hours later, he honestly wasn't that shocked to find Spitfire and Stitch sleeping quietly alongside him.

Berk, on the other hand, was given no warning about the destructive little alien and his mischievous ways.