Alrighty people, another set. These aren't my best, I don't think - #68 and #69 are kind of weak, but ah well. The other two are good. Also, #67 is a request from the marvelous keep_me_posted, who wanted a Ruffnut/Fishlegs theme. I can't say it's as good as I wanted it to be, but here it is! In other news: We've hit seventy drabbles, people! We're closing in on a hundred! Woot! Enjoy.

~.~

67. Talkative

There was only one Viking in Berk besides Hiccup who bothered to read merely for enjoyment, and that was Fishlegs. And, in the traditional fashion of Viking youth, his friends were forever reminding him that this was more than a little bit . . . well, weird, or very un-Viking-like at the absolute least.

In addition, Fishlegs had developed an advanced vocabulary compared to that of his friends, and was constantly frustrating them with complex sentences full of long words with lots of syllables. Like Hiccup, Fishlegs prided himself on his knowledge of obscenely large words, and, similar to the one-legged boy, he received more than enough blank stares in return.

Toothless, however, had noticed that there was one situation in particular where Fishlegs' eloquence always failed him miserably.

"What are you doing? Are you reading?" Ruffnut bounced up, her usual energetic self, and practically pounced on the table Fishlegs was seated at, with her knees on the bench and her elbows propped on the tabletop, her chin resting in her palms.

It was after a somewhat unintelligent question such as this that Fishlegs would usually make some attempt at a sarcastic remark that was completely lost on the recipient because of the excessively large words he used. This time, all he managed was an unimpressive, "Uh. . . yeah."

"Why are you reading when it's so nice outside? It's the first sunshine we've had in weeks!"

"Um. . . because, um—"

Ruffnut peered at the book, which was upside-down from her angle, and raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you at least go read outside? It's a lot better than this," she said, gesturing at the dark room they were in.

"It's, er, yeah. . ."

The girl raised her eyes from the book and studied Fishlegs across the table for a minute. "Not too talkative today, are you?" she asked.

". . . uh. . ."

After another moment, Ruffnut laughed. "You're crazy," she told him fondly, and Toothless rolled his eyes. He could guess what was coming next.

". . . But I like that."

Fishlegs blushed a truly incredible shade of red and stuttered something unintelligible as Ruffnut skipped away, grinning slightly as she did so.

68. Found

His best friend says nothing to him, but Toothless knows what Hiccup is searching for as he maneuvers his way through the village.

Berk had won the battle, thank the gods, but it had come at a price. All around them, the surviving Vikings are only now beginning to start patching up the damage: collecting the dead, repairing buildings, taking note of destroyed food supplies and missing livestock. In the distance, Toothless can hear Stoick barking orders, and the two of them had already checked up on their other friends; Ruffnut and Fishlegs were fine, Tuffnut had suffered only some slight blood loss, and Snotlout had taken a nasty blow to the back of the head and would be out cold for at least another twenty-four hours, although he too would recover in time.

Only one of them was missing.

They didn't yet know if she really hadn't been seen since the battle, but nobody they had asked had noticed her. It was possible that she had just been busy on the other side of the village and was perfectly safe—but there were several other options, far less pleasant, that were equally likely.

But luckily their anxiety, however strong it may be, is short-lived. A familiar figure emerges from the dust, bruised and limping but no worse for wear, and she breaks into a run when she spots them.

The tightness in Toothless' chest melts away as he watches Astrid wrap her arms tightly around Hiccup's neck, relief visible on both their faces as they revel in the discovery of something that, for a short time, they had been on the verge of losing.

69. Freefall

Toothless had always been a bit of a risk-taker, to say the least. Seeing how he enjoyed a good adventure, and danger didn't scare him, the dragon was one of those who liked to "live on the edge," more or less. He also quite liked involving others on his stunts, and Hiccup was always a prime victim. Toothless would often reenact their first real flight together, that incredible freefall what was insanely fun—as long as there was no danger of hitting whatever lay five hundred feet below them.

The only bad thing about this habit was that Hiccup had somewhat mixed opinion of these entertaining plummets. If he was feeling adventurous and energetic, he often enjoyed the adrenalin rush as much as Toothless did—and that was fun. Other times, depending on his mood, his reaction was far less interesting and he would pretend to ignore the fact that he was freefalling, although how one could convincingly attempt to totally ignore the fact that they were sitting on a dragon who was careening down through empty air from an incredible height, Toothless didn't know.

And sometimes, the dragon's antics would be completely unexpected and take the boy by surprise. This was far more entertaining than when Hiccup tried to ignore the freefall, even if they were unnecessarily loud—you see, there was lots of screaming involved.

70. Experimentation

"Oh, now where did that lad go?"

Toothless lays in the weak sunshine that trickles through the gray clouds above, watching as Stoick stomps by for the third time, looking for his son. Upon noticing the Night Fury watching him, the Viking chief sighs and slumps down beside the great black dragon. "Have you seen him lately?"

Toothless offers the powerful man a slight smile, but doesn't bother to reply. He has a general idea of where Hiccup is, but where the boy goes, the destruction created by his latest experiment can't be far behind. The dragon just doesn't have the energy for that today.

Stoick frowns. "I thought not. He's probably off, oh, what is it he's into these days? Collecting plants? I found him digging up mushrooms the other day, for the love of Thor."

The dragon smothers a huff of laughter. That had been the day that his best friend had been sure that he had been on the verge of a scientific breakthrough, and mushrooms were the key. However, that brilliant idea hadn't lasted long, and now he was experimenting with explosives.

Luckily, his father hadn't learned that. Yet.

Stoick eyes the dragon, obviously wondering why he is napping in the sun instead of following Hiccup around and assisting him with his latest scheme. "What's he up to now, anyway? Something too boring for you—breeding fungi, maybe? That sounds like his kind of thing."

The dragon shakes his head lightly. That craze had already come and gone. Besides, it wasn't that today's experiment was boring—in fact, it was a bit too exciting for the dragon. He didn't feel like dying from smoke inhalation right now, or blowing strangers' houses to bits, or whatever it was his best friend was up to at the moment.

"No?" Stoick's frown deepens. "What is it then? Is he dissecting something?"

Again, Toothless shakes his head. Thankfully, there had been no dissecting going on lately. The dragon eyes the sky—he's expecting something any minute now.

"Is he doing those weird human reflex tests again? Because I swear, if he jumps out of a bush at me with a rat one more time, I'm disinheriting him."

Oh, those reflex studies had been an adventure alright, and not the kind of adventure that Toothless wanted to repeat. Having a mad scientist for a best friend was fine, but bringing down Astrid's wrath upon their heads because he made her jump was not an experience that anybody would want to relive.

"So he's not chasing people with rats." By this point, Stoick looks on the verge of a panic attack as he dreams up all the possible destructive things his son could be doing. "It can't be good, because obviously, you want no part of it," he tells the dragon.

Oh, Stoick has no idea. The dragon opens up an eye, giving the Viking a I warned you look.

Three. . . two. . . one. . .

Right on cue, an immense black mushroom cloud of smoke leaps into the air on the other side of the village, pinpointing Hiccup's location.