"A'right, little man…what head is it, then?" Loggard asked, pointing to a zippleback standing patiently in the arena.
Alvis thought for a moment.
"Um…that one!"
The head he picked blew green gas. Sven, who was holding onto the dragon's reigns, coughed and glared.
"Right again, Alvis, good show!"
As they turned to another zippleback and Loggard began to quiz Alvis, Stoick walked into the arena.
"Morning, boys."
"Hi, Grandpa!"
Alvis waved. Distracted from avoiding the gas, he breathed it in and hacked. Sven laughed.
"Can I borrow ye, Loggard? I want to show ye something."
"Course, Chief."
They walked in silence together to the outskirts of Berk until they reached a grove with a scattering of haphazard wooden grave markers. Stoick stopped in front of one labeled "Svanna Erickson"
"This…is your mother."
"How…how did she die, then?"
Stoick sighed.
"She had been sickly all her life. Unbeknownst to us, yer father was experimenting with our captured dragons' blood to cure her. One night, a dragon he snuck out of the hold got loose. No one was prepared."
"But tha's…"
"Treason. We had no choice but to send him away. But by then, your mother had already passed on."
"I see. Thank ya for tellin' me this."
"She would be so proud to know her son is back home. I know you're going to be a great dragon trainer. I'm just sorry ye were taken away with yer father."
"S'allright, I'm here now and all." Loggard said cheerfully.
He seemed to have a sudden thought. He took his copy of the dragon manual out, turned to a page on gronckles and took out three not-quite-flat -yet flowers he was pressing. He placed them before the grave.
"I'm home, mum."
A/N: More on Loggard's backstory! Figured I'd do another chapter focused on him to flesh him out more. Turned out to be more of a drabble chapter I guess! Hope you like it and thank you for reading/reviewing!