The scent on the wind was one that was familiar. Rain clouds, to his left. The earthy scent of an island to his right.

He would have said due north, but with no way to tell what direction they were going, except for the scent of the wind, and the sound of it rushing against his ears, there was no way for Krogan to tell which way on the omnidirectional compass he and his new companion were heading.

He bared his teeth in frustration. Hunger pushed him to nudge the Razorwhip towards where he could sense the smell of dense, freshly dampened soil. His eyes flickered as his aching body turned to shift with the Razorwhip's body.

The dragon made a low croon, their body twisting to a halt midair. Krogan gasped, gripping tighter onto the dragon's spines as their body shifted upright to hover in the air.

The dragon did not move, Krogan would have felt their head shift. Now that there was no wind on the horizon, Krogan could hear other noises. Over the sound of the water crashing far below them, there was the sound of clattering. Yelling. A battle.

Out on the sea, where there was little chance of there being any loud noise to cover up distant sound, let alone too few landmarks to muffle it against the horizon, sounds of battle and war traveled for miles.

His eyes narrowed, even though he knew he would not see anything through the clouds, through the blindness of his vision, he was instinctive. His body thrived on his primal instincts to simply survive. It was what got him this far in life, after all, living underneath the madman that was Drago Bludvist's cruel, iron grip he had on the Northern Alliance.

Perhaps not that way, he thought, before he arched his back.

"Maybe we find another way around them?" He offered the dragon, who cooed in reply. Then, they were stretching up, back towards the clouds. The dragon's powerful, sleek wings cut through the clouds as if they were a knife through butter, and again, man and dragon cautiously grew closer to the battlefield.

The war raging was growing closer as they leveled out against the water, and Krogan lowered his body towards the back of his dragon, flattening down his frame against the neck of the Razorwhip, to make it seem as if he were not a dragon rider, as if he were not even there.

They were just a wild dragon. One in the same. The Razorwhip, his eyes, he, their lookout system. Their hearing. Combined, he did not have much else to offer besides potential offense- if he still had a weapon- his ears, to lend for sound, his sense of smell, to search for water and land.

He could still fight if push came to shove. But of course it shan't have to come to that if it did not have to. His eyes slid closed, as he tried focusing on the sound of the noise they were approaching.

The rattling of the chains. A crack and woosh of a net being flung into the air. Wingbeats. Plenty of them. Too many of them. The distinctive scream of a Singetail, more than one, wings whistling on the air. That noise was too familiar.

Hiccup and the Dragon Riders were attacking one of Johann's fleets.

"Alright, I think I know enough of what is going on," He grunted. "The fucker has overtaken my goddamn dragons I trained." He hissed to himself. The bubble of rage began to blossom in his chest.

He shouldn't go to such a brash decision.

What other choice do I have? If I can get those dragons back, I have the chance to acquire my dragon back, right? His mind whorled in circles at the thought. Vengeance. He could take vengeance, right here, right now, right? At least one of those dirt-eating fools has had to have taken her for their own, let alone replaced me.

"Come on," He arched himself, trying to urge the Razorwhip down out of the clouds, however, the dragon let out a long, low growl. Their tail whipped back and forth as they circled out of the way of a something hot that came whizzing past their heads.

"What do you mean, no?" He snapped. "My dragon is probably down there right now with someone else!" He once again leaned flat against the Razorwhip's neck.

"Dive!" He proclaimed gruffly.

Again, the Razorwhip snarled, and instead pitched left, around another hot blast. Krogan felt his heart grow heavy in his chest.

"I can't just leave her down there!" He cried, as the Razorwhip groaned loudly. The man sat up from their neck, gripping at his hair in his hands.

"Urgh…" he growled. His hand that had been sliced gave an angry throb at him, his body quivering. There was a collective screech from the Singetails below, and instead, Krogan leaned forwards, trying to decipher any sort of individual's noise.

They all sounded different. He could hear the green one. The green one with the stupid newbie that was too busy fucking around and making jokes instead of doing what Drago had transferred him to this front to do in the first place. Another one, No-Name, one of the breeding females…

Why are they taking the breeders out of the program? He questioned himself, before he shook his head. Another cry, a command to shape a formation. This one sounded similar to his dragon's, and yet… it was to asymmetric. It was too high-pitched, and the voice was too difficult to understand,

She wasn't in this battle, as none of the other Singetails were sounding anything like her. Gritting his teeth, Krogan turned, and again, he turned his head to the side.

So engrossed he was in listening to his surroundings, that Krogan yelped sharply when the beating of wings crescendoed above the clouds they were in.

"Come on Bud, we can loose them right now!" The nasal voice of Haddock spilled past Krogan's ears as the Razorwhip came to a screeching halt, shaking their head.

A powerful wing flared past him, and it promptly whacked him in the back, right along his spine with its broad fingers and strong membrane.

Pain immediately smashed into him. A tidal wave. He tilted his head down into the Razorwhip's back with a scream of agony.

The half-healed scabs that were splattered on his back split open, blood pouring from the newly reopened wounds.

Gasping, Krogan tugged his arms back on the Razorwhip's neck, and they complied, circling back in a loop that sent Krogan and the dragon upside down.

Instantly, his heart shot into his throat.

Krogan gasped, forcing his legs to dig themselves into the rough metallic scales of the Razorwhip's back and sides as they spun back to even out against the clouds. He squeezed his eyes closed with a cry of pain as the scales tore into his thighs; not drawing blood, but burning all the same.

As the two finally evened out, Krogan lifted his head, panting softly. He could feel his sides heaving, his stomach stewing. What little food he had in his stomach lurched, as he promptly leaned over, feeling the bile spilling up his throat before he could stop it from coming past his lips.

"Urghh," he moaned through his body, spinning in dizziness. Pain and a flurry of rage mixed with pure terror splashed through his mind. His head spun. He was used to maneuvers like that. Being unable to see made it worse. The disorientation of not seeing his surroundings was horrifying.

The Razorwhip crooned as they shifted, still hovering. Krogan shifted his grip on the dragon's neck at the sound of the Night Fury and rider diving through the clouds past them, going straight back into the fray.

Apparently they had not been seen, nor heard.

How had the Dragon Rider missed him?

Whatever, he thought. Gives us a chance to escape.

Krogan turned on a dime. The scent of fire and smoke. Of acrid flames and sharp notes of Zippleback gas now stung his nose. The whole party was here, and he wasn't too keen on figuring out what else was going to happen with anything else not going his way.

"We- should… let us go." He panted weakly. His stomach tightened again, threatening to spill the remainder of his stomach acid into the sky.

Now I need food, anyway. He turned with the Razorwhip, his aching thighs screaming at him for some sort of release against the dragon's spiny sides and back.

"RETREAT!" The cry came hard and loud against his ears from down below, from the ships and mess of Singetails that were certainly circling around the boats like a murder of ravens over a fresh kill made by a pack of wolves.

The returning cry of the Singetails as their wings beat hard against the air made Krogan's heart thunder louder in his head.

"Go!" He hissed. The Razorwhip replied with a sharp cry, as they turned in the opposite direction that they were facing before, heading towards the island, with any hope.

Krogan kept himself braced firmly against the dragon's back. For once, panic was beginning to slice through him. He could hear the wings of the Riders' dragons piercing the clouds as they began to head towards their location.

Fuck, Krogan swore to himself. Did Haddock see me?

The thought was reciprocated in kind, being affirmed to him, by the sound of the Night Fury letting out a loud screech.

They're close, he hissed to himself. With a sharp gasp, Krogan dug his legs into the Razorwhip's sides, his bare feet grasping at the spines on their legs as he ordered them to dive out from the cloud cover.

Fuck, oh fuck, he thought, suddenly realizing his innate mistake. He shifted, swallowing thickly.

"Stormfly, grab him!" The voice of the blond rider that was with Hiccup echoed out to his left.

Again, he shoved himself flat to the Razorwhip's back, and they dove again, swiveling around upside down. Krogan felt a jolt and a clang echoed as the Razorwhip's tail slashed into the Nadder's.

Again, Krogan gripped on as tightly as he possibly could as they spun around, to the screeching of pain from the nadder.

His tears began to dribble from his cheeks, he could feel them chilling his face as they again, shot up into the sky.

He could feel his pants growing sticky against his skin as his thighs chafed against the Razorwhip's scales.

"AGH! HE'S GETTING AWAY!" The blond cried. "SOMEONE GRAB HIM, THE DRAGON GOT STORMFLY!"

Krogan panted, and despite the fact that he can't see, he glanced back to his right. Wind whistled past him on that side, and he ducked flat, trying to conceal himself further. Driving. Down.

The Razorwhip's wings spiraled as they hurtled down towards the ocean, ad then twisted, shooting back up towards the sky. It was moments before the two breached the clouds above, and again, Krogan blinked his eyes, shaking.

His heart continued to hammer in his chest at the sound of wings approaching again. The squawk of a Monstrous Nightmare rippled past his ears as again, Krogan tried to duck down. He had no shirt on, and as such, the dragon's claws sliced down his back.

He bit back a scream of pain, and his Razorwhip cried out lashing their body as they shoved theirselves upwards.

Krogan was jarred as the sharp spiked dragon's head connected with the belly of the Nightmare, and then he twisted around to look behind himself again. Pretend.

Pretend to be able to see. His wide eyes tried to focus on something, anything in the darkness and blinding pinpricks of white light. The dew and the rain that clung to his body from being gathered by the clouds chilled him to the bone at this altitude.

"Fall back!" Hiccup's voice came stark across the sky, and Krogan turned back forwards as the sound of multiple sets of wings closed in around him. The rest of Hiccup's sentence was drowned out over the thrum of Krogan's heart beating in his chest.

"No, no," Krogan whined. His companion arched up, screeching. The empty sound of their tail whipping through air reached his ears.

"Are you lost?" Hiccup's voice sounded again, this time to his left, instead of behind him.

"What are you doing, Hiccup," the Nadder rider's voice hissed to his right.

"Astrid, just let me do a bit of diplomacy." Hiccup's voice had the barest hiss to it, as the young man's shifting on his saddle sounded.

Krogan swallowed thickly, turning his face down to stare at his hands. Or, where he knew they were wrapped around the spines on either side of his Razorwhip's throat.

I can't let them see my… he trailed off in thought, unable to focus on his body's agitated fluttering. He felt himself beginning to droop against his dragon's back. If the Riders were speaking, he couldn't hear them over the sound of his own heavy breathing and his heart.

"Hey!" A voice cut through his focus, and instinctively, he snapped his head in the direction of the noise. He blinked, his third eyelid sliding across his eyes as he then froze up

His Razorwhip gave a nervous croon at him as the fingers of his right hand tightened against their metallic spine.

"You were right," Came the Nadder rider's voice. A hint of something else tinted her words. Krogan didn't care to place it, as he turned to face forwards again.

He opened his mouth to speak, only to have nothing but a shaking keen echo past his open lips. His body was beginning to cool.

He hurt. Everything ached and twinged as he shifted against his Friend, who gave a reassuring noise. He didn't say anything. The adrenaline. The adrenaline was leaking back from whence it came, and with that, was an overabundance of smells and sounds that made his head throb.

"He's actually blind?" A voice from above him snorted. "Why? How? Hiccup are you sure this isn't a trap?" This one was loud, slightly deep, maybe an alto, but was from perhaps the rider of the Monstrous Nightmare.

"I am sure it isn't a trap." A new voice replied, this time in front of him. Krogan's eyes hardened as he stared straight forwards. Anger began to ripple from his chest; a hard knob in the back of his head as his lips peeled away from his sharpened fangs and his brows bulled together.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Krogan." The man in front of him replied. "You know I've survived wo-"

"Not the time, Viggo." Hiccup snapped. "Don't antagonize him." Krogan could feel the lingering of Hiccup's gaze, and despite his urge to bristle, his urge to hiss and snap; Hiccup's gaze was calm and gentle.

He could smell the young man's curiosity- and unfortunately, pity, as the two scents clashed with each other. The rest of the group was reproachful, and again, Viggo's only scent was mild amusement… and relief.

I will think about that later. He reminded himself, his brows cinching together in mild pain.

"You are looking quite rough, Krogan," Hiccup commented. His voice was soft, but gentle. "And what happened to your eyes?"

Krogan felt his throat constrict at the muggy feeling in his head beginning to chip away. He knows the feeling. It was a familiar feeling, but one that faded over time.

"Pray tell, Haddock," he started to speak, his voice shaking. "Now why, exactly, do you think I would tell you?" He asked, as he shifted his grip on his Razorwhip's spines. He swallowed thickly.

Stupid, he intoned. But I have to protect myself.

"You are blind." Ingerman, the portly blond that rode the Gronkle, intoned from underneath him. The young man had been silent for the longest time. "At least according to what Hiccup says."

Krogan arched his neck slightly. He bared his teeth. A deep snarl echoed from the back of his throat.

"Do you think I need your help or your pity? I can survive well enough alone." Krogan instinctively snapped. His teeth gnashed together with a sharp click the first time he snapped his jaws closed at the end of his sentence.

"You are already acting erratic," Viggo pointed out. Krogan listened to the wind whistling through the air as it brushed lazily past his dragon's wings. They flapped once, and Krogan heard Viggo, or someone else shifting against the leather of a saddle.

"You obviously were not prepared to come out here alone." Hiccup offered, and Krogan heard the creaking of the Night Fury's prosthetic as the young man shifted in his saddle. They came closer, brushing against the Razorwhip's wing.

The dragon hissed softly at the approach of the Night Fury, though Krogan gave a small click in the back of his throat.

Calm, he echoed. His friend- the thought made him pause.

Friend. It was fitting. The Razorwhip crooned at him, and the sound of their scales creaking as they lowered their head was heard as Hiccup finally hovered next to him.

"You are severely injured and ill-equipped to be riding a Razorwhip." The young man pointed out. "I won't ask how you acquired her, since it is obvious that she trusts you, but you need healing before anything else."

"Hiccup, you cannot be serious-" Astrid interjected from his side.

"Does he look in any way capable of defending himself in this state?" Fishlegs came from behind him again, and Krogan grit his teeth.

I don't even get a say in this, do I? He thought.

"Do I even get a say in this, or no?" He spoke up, ire beginning to tint his voice.

"The dragon hunters think you are dead, from my understanding." Viggo intruded, to the sound of a grunt from the dragon he rode. "You were erratic and sloppy. Very unlike yourself, I must say."

Krogan felt a stab of … something unfamiliar n the back of his mind.

"You, Viggo, should have no right to speak!" He cried. His throat tightened, and it was the barest, weakest of noises that was dragged from his lips, as they quivered.

"Viggo, enough." Hiccup snapped. His voice had shifted back over to farther on his opposite side. "You're upsetting him further."

Krogan shifted in his grip against the Razorwhip's back, discomfort beginning to slither into his legs. He had to let go. They were getting weak.

Krogan wanted to, and yet, he couldn't. He'd fall.

"So are you going to take me back to your…" he trailed off slightly. His head throbbed. Pain. His head hurt. Horrible pain began to slice through his head. "Mnn…"

He let one of his hands trail to his face, brushing against the skin on his cheeks. It was rippled up and raw.

His hand pulled away from his face with a sharp cry of pain, his eyes squeezing closed against the burning of the wind on his cheeks.

The tone of the air around him shifted. He could smell the worry from one of the riders. The pity. The smug satisfaction from another.

Just ignore it, he told himself. Krogan felt his throat wobble.

No tears fell from his burning eyes.

─── ∙ ~𓁹~ ∙ ───

He felt the wood hitting the undersides of his Razorwhip's feet. Krogan wasted no time in stumbling off once she lowered herself enough for him to do so.

The smell of the edge was now less like that of singed wood and metal, and more of blossoming trees and freshly cut dragon nip.

He gripped onto the Razorwhip's side. The dragon only cooed at him, as she stood, but Krogan kept his gaze forwards. His legs were stiff. They hurt. He could hear everyone else landing, but still, he tightened his grip on his dragon's back.

Footsteps approached him from the right, and a familiar scent overwhelmed him. He could feel the hands hovering over his arm, hesitating.

"Get away from me, Viggo," he snapped, being clear to let his ire through his tone as he smacked the man in the side of the head with his free hand.

I was not aiming there, he hissed to himself. But he deserves it. He should be dead. Why couldn't you stay dead?

Krogan listened to Viggo's dejected sigh, however his boots do not leave.

Krogan keeps one hand on his razorwhip, as she begins to move forwards, seemingly trying to follow the others, but Krogan cried out. Pain immediately shot into his thighs as soon as he tried to walk.

He felt his legs spasam, and then give out altogether as he collapsed to the wooden planks underneath his bare feet. The sting of exhaustion burned his muscles as he hit the floor.

Get up. He told himself. It isn't that much farther. I can make it.

At the sound of a flurry of steps, his dragon hissed, wrapping a wing around him as she too, laid on the wood.

The giant of a man tugged. He pressed his hands against the rough floor, arched his back, but as soon as his hips were halfway to the point of him being able to sit up, the pressure on the exposed muscles of his thighs was making them howl at him anew.

"Ah-" he panted out. Tears stung his eyes as he slowly pressed himself back onto the wood beneath him.

"Easy, take it easy, Krogan." Fishlegs's voice was the first to sound, and Krogan peeled his lips away from his teeth with a sharp hiss.

"Just-" he felt his throat tighten with humiliation. "Just go away!" Tears stung his eyes and burned his cheeks again.

Stop crying, he told himself. He could smell the horrible stink of Ingerman's pity on the untrodden, hideous air.

"Easy, Krogan." Gentle hands grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to avoid the new gashes on his back and hips. "You're fine, see?" Ingerman shifted him up further. Krogan used his arms to push himself up into the warmth of the other's body.

"Hey!" The young man yelped, as Krogan promptly buried his head in Ingerman's shoulder. Warmth. Safe? Perhaps. Yes. Perhaps there was safety here.

"Oh," Ingerman said softly. He reached across Krogan's broad shoulders, brushing a hand across a long healed ridge that had once been a deep lash in his flesh; branded into him with a whip.

Please don't- he winced at the touch, however that was when his addled mind began to shiver.

"Don't just stand there, Viggo, help me with him?" Fishlegs offered, to a mumbled reply from the other man. Krogan didn't care to understand what Viggo said. His mind was growing muggy again.

"That's what I thought." Ingerman grumbled, as Krogan was gently pried away from the warmth that had been seeping into his frame.

"No-" Krogan slurred. His eyes half-lidded, and his head flopped to the side. He didn't want to go. He shouldn't have to, no, no, no-

"Shhh, you are okay, my dear, just relax." Viggo's hands were gentle against his shoulders as his eyes fluttered. "You look tired." It was a blunt statement.

"I'm… I'm not, just… just let me go…" the winded state was back. His lungs tried to expand to their maximum capacity, and yet, he started to cough. A worried noise echoed from the Razorwhip, who's head brushed his hand.

"Okay, just calm down." Ingerman stated simply. "We are going to flip you right side up."

The warning didn't help the stab of pain that shot straight through Krogan's entire body as his legs were grabbed by the portly young man, and he was shifted onto his back. His heart hammered in his chest, and yet he still didn't have the energy to cry out in pain. The only thing that slipped past his lips was a weak crackle.

"There," Viggo sighed. "Come here." Arms wrapped around his body, gently held onto him, pulled him close to a warm chest covered in some sort of unfamiliar armor.

"Ready?" Krogan tried to shake his head quickly, however in reality, his head barely twitched. He could feel himself shutting down. Everything was starting to quiver.

His eyes began to slide closed, though they were left open by a crack. Awareness waned, voices blurring into nothing but the buzzing of a slightly annoying background noise in the hum of his own mind.