"Acke! We found another one for you," Hiccup called out to what looked like no one before a tall, heavyset woman with pale skin, dark brown hair, and a n outfit made of several different colors of fur burst into the room, a tired expression on her round face.
"Well I hope it can heal on its own," her tone was annoyed, but her onyx eyes betray her act.
"It's got a broken wing and it looks like it may have broken its leg as well," Hiccup explained.
"We have no more room! I don't know if something's in the fish or the air to make these dragons so on edge lately. I've had so many patients it's almost like they're trying to get hurt!"
"I'll give it a place to stay," Hiccup pressed, "But it really needs help."
"What is it?"
"Well… you see, I don't know."
"Hmmm…" Acke began to examine Whisper, muttering things like interesting and "hmmm" repeatedly, "She is going to need braces and a cast for her wing and leg. Beautiful creature. Fishlegs!"
"Ma'am?" a heavyset, blonde boy stepped into the room.
"Examine," Acke ordered, pointing to a bored looking Whisper.
"Small ears, large eyes, medium length claws, small razor-like teeth, small frame, and large wings. Diagnosis: A strong flyer who, with its large eyes spots its prey from the sky and snatches it up with her claws using a death grip or teeth with its strong bite, and she's built for speed," he concluded.
"Wonderful. Wait 'til the braces and casts come off before trying to name its breed. And she may need some slight adjustment of her bones. So who wants to help by holding her down?" Acke asked. Her apprentice Fishlegs, Hiccup and Astrid each looked worried.
"Well don't be shy. It shouldn't be too hard trying to hold down a terrified, edgy, untamed dragon," she said in an attempt at humor.
"I'll go get help," Hiccup muttered while slinking out of the room.
101010101010
She was a little loopy, but enough of her was still "conscious" that she could try to throw off the remaining Vikings on her back. The cast for Whisper's leg was on, but Acke and Fishlegs were struggling to hold her bones in place while Hiccup and Astrid attempted to secure the brace. Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut were each holding a leg – not without difficulty – that wasn't broken, and several other Vikings were weighing down her head, body and tail. Stoic the Vast was holding down her powerful, non-broken wing, and was slightly shocked at the sheer power that was contained in such a small dragon. She had to be a little smaller than Toothless. They'd even given her some strange, bitter-tasting elixir to immobilize her, but she managed to fight off a good portion of the daze. Toothless, Sonto, and Scratch looked on in slight amusement but mostly in concern for their riders or sister.
Got it!" Astrid announced, much to the relief of everyone else who jumped off before Whisper had a chance to throw them off. Whisper fell slack, only raising her head and craning her neck to see their handiwork. Her wing looked normal except for the metal out lining the bones along the middle and rim. At least it was bendable at the joints son she could furl and unfurl her wings, but her wing still hurt immensely when moved so she would keep it furled so as to not drag it around. Her cast was somewhat like what she saw on the legs of the other dragons but her was thicker. She was again led through the shelter for dragons before being brought into one of the buildings and led down a corridor. She noted the whole building was carved out of stone, including the small rooms, one of which she was led into. There wasn't much except for a straw bed and a rather large window probably made for perching or flying in and out of – not that she'd be doing either for a while. It was so dull; the gray rock and the hay weren't exactly eye-catching.
101010101010
She never thought it would end like this. She was going to die, but she'd always thought it's be because of a fight, old age, disease, or even humans. No, she was going to die of boredom. She cursed her leg every time she wanted to get up and do something. She cursed her wing every time she was greeted by the pale blue, light or dark gray, or black as pitch sky. There were only five things Whisper truly loved: story-telling, stories, racing, her parents, and flying. What could possibly be better than feeling of wind beneath your wings, the whooshing sound in your ears, the adrenaline rush of a dive or a freefall, or floaty feeling you got when you glide and drift through the clouds?
"Breakfast," the red-haired, scrawny, male called Hiccup said heaving a few pounds of fish in front of her. He knew not to pet her or try to, for she growled and snapped just about every time.
It was two weeks later when things began to change, when Whisper could limp around in her cast. She hobbled out of her shelter at a time of day where it looked like every dragon and Viking, or most them at least, had left the village. Very few dragons were there, most sleeping in little tent-like shelters or on the shelter rooftops, their movement threatening to send them sliding off, and the rest were gulping down fish and telling stories of dangerous flights and daring raids, imprisonment and their big breakouts, and some of their biggest adventures. She was almost tempted to join them.
"Move it!" she was pushed aside by a female dragon with a serious attitude problem. She'd seen this type of dragon before on Terra Muerte, but the breed had only settled in Berk a little over a year ago. They were called red devils, for the only color they came in was red and they had slender bodies similar to that of a snake only much bigger, deep green eyes that varied in shade, and black horn-like structures that grew on top of their heads. They were very beautiful but also very vain.
Whisper's POV
I couldn't let it go, not like that, but what could I, in my condition, do? I didn't like red devils. When I was a hatchling, I was cute, but red devils are just born beautiful and always remain beautiful. I was lucky to turn out not ugly, I mean, I'm okay I guess. Male dragons are almost never ugly, but it's always the physical abilities I look at, not that I'm interested in males. I skipped that phase, no, now what am I? Nineteen? Not likely I'd hit that phase now that my teen years were nearly gone. Mating or being bonded, to me, were like limits or restrictions. Mating meant hatchlings which meant no doing what I wanted, and bondings, when in the position of the female, meant a tight leash. Males very rarely let females do as they please. Sonto says I'll never bond, but is that such a bad thing? To me? Absolutely not.
The flapping of wings alerted me to the return of the missing dragons. I finally didn't feel so alone. Sure I could hear the voices, and flutter of wings, and the occasional purr or growl, but my only visitor was my brother who only stayed with me for minutes at a time to bring me fish or check up on me.
"How are you?" that black dragon I met the day I crash landed on this island asked me, landing right in front of me.
"Fine." Usually my answers had more tacked on to them, but what more could I say to this dragon I barely knew?
"Since you're feeling better, can I ask you something?"
"I guess so."
"What are you doing here?" the question caught me only slightly by surprise. I knew my eyes were gleaming. Sonto always said they did before a story.
"My name is Whisper, and I hail from the island of Terra Muerte. For reasons I won't mention, I decided to leave in search of a new home. I remember leaving late in the afternoon before a storm hit. Water pelted my scales like tiny rocks, the wind whipped at me and tossed me around, bending my wings at odd angles. I had to carry my weak brother, and I was sure it was the end for us. I looked below me but saw nothing. The water looked black and the lightning blinded me and the moon was dark. When the lightning flashed the sea became visible and I'd see the waves crash into each other in an endless war dance. Jagged rocks jutted from the ocean's mouth and the roar of thunder ripped across the vast space of sky in a near deafening crash. As soon as I spotted land, I flew faster, and dropped my brother on the beach just as I was giving out. Then I fell through the trees (literally) and onto the ground where I first discovered I was rendered immobile and thought I was going to die, but I was nearly overwhelmed at the thought of not being able to be there when my brother needed me." He seemed a little taken in by my story and I noticed a few other dragons including my brother had encircled me to listen.
"Any questions?"
"If you don't mind, you said you were from an island called Terra Muerte. What's it like?"
"Terra Muerte is a large island, home to many breeds of dragons. I've lived there all my life until now and this is my… first… time getting close to humans. On that island live hundreds of deadly nadders, red devils, gronckles, terrible terrors, monstrous nightmares, hideous zipplebacks, godsends, timberjacks, thunderdrums, mites, whispering deaths, scrills, and so many other breeds I'd take all day trying to name them all. The forest was different too. The trees here, the leaves are like twigs, really thin, but in my homeland the leaves are wide in several different shapes ranging in sizes from the size of my paw to the wing span of a monstrous nightmare. The strong-legged dragons usually live in burrows and underground caves, but strong-winged dragons live in caves in the mountains high above the clouds or in nests in the canopy of the trees. It rains only one month out of the entire month. Dragons that live underground have to move the hills or the canopy in the trees and out of the valley or be flushed from their homes and drowned. There's not much else."
"What are you?" Scratch asked.
"I am a godsend. We get our names because of our flying techniques and our scales. The sunlight reflects off our scales and we attract our prey who merely mistake us for blurs of light. Once close enough we swoop down and snatch up our prey. These things," I gestured to the antennae on my head, they were stiff at the base and lifted and drooped according to my mood like the ears of most animals but the rest hung limply, roughly 14 inches long, "Are my antennae. They flutter in the air and alert me to the pattern of the wind and I adjust my wings accordingly. This results in a noiseless flight." A snort was heard, and I turned to see the red devil from earlier. The few dragons who'd gathered round had become a crowd.
"I'd like to see that."
"Give me a chance to heal first, and I'll show you what real flying looks like," I wasn't backing down this time.
"Nell, don't start," the black dragon spoke up, "It's getting late. We should all head to bed." A murmur of agreement fell over the crowd as they dispersed, going their separate ways to their perch or room. I turned to the black dragon.
"If you don't mind may I ask who and what are you?"
"There's nothing like me on your island?"
"No, but if it makes you feel better, I've been thinking about you wondering what you were." He chuckled at this.
"I'm a nightfury, said to be the offspring of lightning and death itself. The name's Toothless.'
"Toothless?"
"Retractable teeth." I'd seen plenty a dragon with retractable teeth.
"Of. Well, good night, Toothless."
"Good night."
And that's how my greatest adventure started.