Happy birthday to one dumbass Dragon Whisperer, can't believe he's only 3 and 3/4 years old in this fic (or, you know, 254 in Amity Years, give or take), figured he deserved a chapter update to celebrate.

Anyways.

Hiccup understood the size of the world in the same way one may understand their hometown. That you belong to it, and that it's all you know, and, if you're unlucky (at least, in his opinion) it is all you'll ever know. Therefore, its size had never been something that he'd considered reasonable to comprehend.

The problem is, living in an archipelago meant that there were very clear boundaries where Berk ended and the rest of the world began. It gave him a very skewed view of that world. Flying on dragonback gave him what he thought was an idea of it, being able to see the entire horizon at a mere glance. But living on a continent, driving through what now seemed to be endless fields of snow, made Hiccup realize that the world serpent had one hell of a spine.

"So…you regret taking the car yet?" Fishlegs' rather smug question drew him out of his musings just in time to see Jazz scowl.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel, "It's like people just forget how to drive in the winter!" She gritted at the stand-still traffic they were sitting in, causing Hiccup to snort.

"I'll take that as a yes, then." Fishlegs chuckled, at which point Jazz sighed restlessly.

"At this rate, we'll be here till after dark…" She muttered to herself, putting the car in park and grabbing her phone. She changed the song playing daintily over the speakers before switching it back to the GPS setting. Her bouncing leg did not change to match the beat, so Hiccup didn't know if the noise was actually helping her mood.

"You know," Fishlegs began to suggest, "maybe we should take this time to actually plan out our flight path –"

As he continued speaking, Hiccup watched as Jazz's eyes darted to an exit sign. Her expression brightened at whatever she read. He felt he should be suspicious at that, but the prospect of getting out of the traffic was more appealing than anything else. "...you know what, screw it." She cut Fishlegs off, wrenching the steering wheel and pulling out of the line of cars, "we're gonna take some backroads."

"What?" Fishlegs squawked, and boy did Hiccup recognize that tone. Immediately, the quality of the road plummeted, shaking both Toothless and Meatlug from their naps.

"You can't just go off course!" Fishlegs fretted, "We're on a time frame, here!"

Hiccup decided to try and nip that at the bud. "Fishlegs," he said, leaning forward to place a hand on his shoulder, "everything's going to be fine." He poured as much sincerity as he could into that statement before promptly turning to Jazz, "Please don't make me a liar, here."

Jazz turned down an even worse street. "Don't worry, I know where we are."

That tidbit of information still didn't seem to calm Fishlegs' nerves all that much, which wasn't exactly surprising – Hiccup was used to his particular type of fretting, so he took it upon himself to steal Meatlug from Toothless, placing her on his friend's shoulder to try and satiate him. "So, uh, we're not just parking in the woods somewhere, are we?" He gave a nervous chuckle. Not that he wasn't used to camping. Maybe just a little rusty…

"Oh, Ancients, no." Jazz said, petting the dashboard of her car as if it were a beloved pet, "I love her too much for that." She hesitated briefly, like she wanted to cringe but just barely held it back, "not that my aunt's driveway is much better…"

"Your aunt?" Hiccup parroted, feeling a type of apprehension begin to build in his gut, "uh…please tell me she and your parents fall on very different sides of the tree?"

Jazz paused for a not-insignificant time, which didn't do much to lift his spirits, "...in what way?" She asked, which also didn't help.

"The…vengeful, ghost-hunting way." He deadpanned, entirely unsure if there was anything else about the Fentons that he should know about.

"Oh!" Jazz let out a relieved chuckle, "then yes, very different sides of the tree."

Hiccup sighed, prompting her to send him the stink eye from the rearview mirror. "You could at least pretend to not be relieved, you know."

Catching Toothless' scathing glare, Hiccup cringed and then muttered, "Sorry."

The additional information (or perhaps it was just Meatlug) seemed to satiate Fishlegs for the time being. His fingers twitched along her spine as he asked, "Aren't you worried about her telling your parents that you're…you know, not on a plane?"

A very valid question, Hiccup had to admit. With a purse of her lips, Jazz pulled into a driveway that was more snow than dirt, "I guess we'll see…"

No sooner did the car come to a stop did a burly woman appear on the front porch of the cabin in front of them. Despite the weather, she was only dressed in a thin cotton shirt covered by overalls: if she had a helmet on, Hiccup could imagine her blending into Berk's population seamlessly. With a drawl that Hiccup had never heard before – and a voice as booming as Stoick's – she exclaimed, "Is that who I think it is?"

Jazz's smile was as bright as the snow as she shut the car door. "Hi, Aunt Alicia."

The woman broke out into her own smile, bustling down the steps with her arms wide open, "Well by the grace of God, Jasmine Fenton!" She exclaimed, scooping her into a hug that could creak ribs, "just what are you doing driving up here in this weather?"

She finally caught sight of Fishlegs, Hiccup, and Toothless, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, "and with three boys in your car?" She turned a facetious eyebrow to Jazz, not leaving much to the imagination on what she was thinking about.

Tactfully ignoring the look, Jazz gestured towards them with an overcompensating nonchalance. "Aunt Alicia, these are some friends from college…!" she hesitated, glancing between the dragon riders (and dragon) and Alicia for a moment, "Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Toothless." She latched her arms behind her back, swinging her upper body innocently.

Alicia obviously had some thoughts about their names, if the incredulous stare Jazz became subject to was anything to go by. But, she didn't say anything. Not that Hiccup would have been able to discern a suspicious glare from the glare she was now giving him. He offered a weak smile.

The silence stretched for an unbearably long time before Jazz's aunt simply…shrugged. "You college kids and your nicknames…" she chuckled, placing her hands, "Get your sorry behinds in here before you freeze half to death. I take it you all are staying for dinner?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Jazz quipped as Alicia turned back to the porch. She gave them an enthusiastic thumbs up when her aunt wasn't looking.

Hiccup and Fishlegs stared after the couple for a few seconds.

"...I'm beginning to think college is a lot different than Jazz claims it is," Fishlegs stated, letting Meatlug wriggle into the breast pocket of his coat. That caused Hiccup to snort, and with a slap to Toothless' back, he began trudging up the steps, "come on. We don't want to be bad guests."

Jazz and her aunt were already in the kitchen by the time they entered the cabin. It was a quaint thing – at least, for 21st century standards. It could actually be considered fit for a king back on Berk, and for a moment Hiccup grew concerned that 'quaint' was the first term that came to mind.

It smelled strongly of baked goods, being that the only thing separating the kitchen from the living room was a slightly elevated platform and a small granite bar. Jazz had already settled down on one of the stools. "So, how's the winter cabin treating you, Aunt Alicia?"

The woman threw a towel over her shoulder as she stirred a pot on the stove. "About as well as it can, don't get snow like this down in Arkansas, but I suppose that's why it comes with a greenhouse." She nodded her head towards the back yard as Hiccup cleaved his boot from his foot, setting it next to Jazz's pair.

He eased onto the stool next to her as Jazz continued the conversation. "Still growing rhubarb, I take it?"

Alicia let out a boisterous laugh, giving Hiccup the distinct impression that 'rhubarb' was not a winter crop. "Jasmine Fenton, your mama has turned you into a city girl," she shook her head, "I'm growing broccoli. And lettuce. Can't stand what the stores sell this time of year."

"...and baking your famous rhubarb pies?" Jazz flashed an award winning smile.

Alicia pulled on her oven mitts with a mischievous side-eye, taking a moment to open the oven. A wave of heat met Hiccup as she set a steaming pie – the culprit of the delectable scent – in front of them. "And baking my famous rhubarb pies." she agreed.

Jazz let out an overly enthusiastic yes, a fist pump accompanied it. But before she could reach for the dessert, Alicia set a hand between her and the pie with a stern glare. "Now I know you didn't just drive all this way on the off chance that I'd have a fresh pie in the oven." She accused, pulling her work out of reach, "so spill it, Missy."

Jazz scoffed very unconvincingly, flipping her hand dismissively at Alicia, "what, can't a niece surprise her favorite aunt during the holiday season?" She asked, entirely avoiding eye contact.

"Not when you're supposed to be on a plane to Europe." the woman deadpanned, and Jazz somehow did an even worse job at hiding her guilt there. Alicia raised an eyebrow, "Unless my younger sister is mistaken?" She asked. Her tone suggested that she already knew the answer. Her gaze flickered to the Dragon Riders as if they were to blame for Jazz's sudden escapade (which, well, she wasn't entirely wrong about). Hiccup flashed his unconvincing smile again, feeling his shoulders hunch nervously.

"Okay! Okay," Jazz admitted, "Look, Aunt Alicia…" she wavered for only a split second, but Hiccup could still see her gears turning, "I-I've gotten straight A's from pre-K through Senior year. I was valedictorian! I qualify for more scholarships than the average college freshman, and I'm not even in an athletic program! And I am looking for colleges out-of-state, we just – "

"Get to the point, Jasmine." Alicia cut her off, and she seemed to buffer for a moment as she planned her words.

"Okay so we may have…missed our flight?" She cringed, and the way she rubbed the back of her neck reminded Hiccup very much of Phantom.

Alicia's skeptical glare, somehow, deepened.

"...on purpose…?" Jazz squeaked like she was waiting for her aunt to start lecturing, but she quickly stuttered out, "And we were going to rebook it, but the airline was just being so difficult and we decided – you know what, why not just make a road trip out of it?" She smiled nervously, "I mean, flights to Europe out of the east coast are way cheaper, anyway, and – New York City during Christmas: bucket list material, right?" She giggled nervously, and obviously didn't like whatever she saw on her aunt's face. "L-look, you and mom were our age once upon a time! Don't you think I've deserved a little…teenage rebellion…?" She shrugged, hands halfway between a 'ta-da' and 'I surrender' that put Hiccup all but two seconds away from facepalming.

It was as if a statue had replaced Alicia for a few seconds, which didn't help the dragon whisperer's twitching hands. When she shifted, she sighed like she was trying to blow Jazz out of her seat. A bit of a whistle graced the air. "Jasmine Fenton, you are truly the eighth wonder of the world," she then burst into a belly laugh, snuffing out the tension in the air as she slapped the tabletop, "maybe you are my niece, after all!"

Hiccup released a sigh from deep within his chest, slumping in relief as Alicia continued chuckling. Jazz joined in nervously, glancing in belated relief between him and her aunt. "So you won't tell mom?"

"Darlin', you're an adult. I'm not gonna go tattlin' on you to your mama. That being said, you're gonna need to keep me updated. I hate the idea of you being out there in the big ol' world on your own. It can be a scary place for young ladies." She eyed the Dragon Riders once again, and Hiccup had the impression that she wouldn't be forgetting their faces anytime soon. Entirely justified, he supposed.

"Now you sound like Danny," Jazz rolled her eyes as if the concerns were completely nonsensical.

"Younger siblings are always naggin', even if they do have good points," Alicia said, "that's why us older sisters gotta stick together, you know." She winked, testing the temperature of the pie with a finger. Her eyebrows suddenly raised in sincerity, "you ain't planning on driving all the way to the east coast, though, are you? That's a rough drive even without ice, darlin'."

Hiccup watched as Jazz's eyes began to sparkle with a real plan, "that's actually what I came to talk to you about. We've bought a few bus tickets, and we were wondering if we could park the car here until we get back?"

"Ah. So you're here for my pie and my driveway," Alicia half-joked, pounding a fist over her heart, "I see how it is."

"Not just those…" Jazz countered with a hint of a joke on her lips, "...your guest room, too…"

Alicia hummed. Though it wasn't disagreeable, it still had a sense of distaste. This time, when she looked at Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Toothless, her gaze didn't leave. "You know, Jazz, I don't just let strangers stay at my home. Even if it is a seasonal one."

"They're not strangers!" Jazz objected, "They're my friends! From college!" She added on the last bit like she'd blatantly forgotten that tidbit, and Hiccup's urge to facepalm came back full-force.

"Yes, hon, I know, they're your friends, but they aren't my friends." Alicia retorted, leaning over the bar to get a better look at them, "so, Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Toothless. Tell me a bit about yourselves."

Hiccup came to the upsetting conclusion that this conversation was not something they could avoid. It could, in fact, make the difference between sleeping in a bed or sleeping in the snow. Not that sleeping in the snow was unfamiliar. In fact, it was almost too familiar. Familiar enough that Hiccup would rather spill his guts to the sister of the ghost hunter out for his head.

His gaze drifted to Jazz, at least for some instruction on what wouldn't make Alicia hate them, but all she gave was an oh-so-helpful raise of her eyebrows.

This was why he was lucky to have already known Astrid's parents.

"Well…we don't speak English," He began, switching modes on the Fenton Phone, "so there's – there's that."

Alicia's eyebrows shot up very similarly to Jazz's, though Hiccup got a feeling it wasn't because of the translators. She sent a skeptical glance to her niece, one that seemed to read, 'these ones? really?'. "...So you chose to come and study in America?"

"Aunt Alicia!" Jazz hissed in nothing short of ignominy, causing the woman to roll her eyes.

"I ain't no xenophobe, Jazzy, I'm just askin '. Seems like a pretty large oversight if you ask me."

"W-well, we're – linguists," Fishlegs butted in, taking a card from the Axion Heist, "so we're, ah, learning. English, that is. And what better place to do that then…here?" he finished.

At least it wasn't a lie on his end.

Alicia hummed, quietly opening a drawer and producing, much to Hiccup's horror, a kitchen knife. He gulped as she turned, expectantly, to Toothless, running her finger along the blade in a very Astrid-esque manner.

Toothless smiled without nearly as much nervousness as Hiccup. He gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up, entirely ignoring the weapon. Hiccup suddenly felt the need to remind him, once again, that he didn't have scales.

Blinking steadily, Alicia turned back to her pie, obviously not knowing what to do with that.

"Uh –" Hiccup butted in, "Toothless here is mute." He paused, realizing immediately after saying it that muteness wasn't going to be the best condition for a linguist.

"Learning Sign Language, actually," Fishlegs butted in, causing Hiccup to send him a strange look, because what in Odin's name was sign language ?

Whatever it was, though, seemed to be enough of an answer for Alicia, because he turned her gaze back to the table with a shrug. "...well for your sake, I hope you're going into the right career." She said, plunging the knife into the pie and sliding a plate to each of them. She turned to the fridge and produced a tub of ice cream. "Now, what do the French call it again? Alla mode?"

Hiccup did not understand that one bit, but considering the way Jazz slumped in relief, it seemed that they passed the test.

"Okay, so if we skirt along the southern edge of the Chicago airspace, we can continue straight onto the southern border of Cleveland's, and then New York's. Which is gonna be a bit trickier since there's a lot more curves in its border. But, it should get us to the ocean." Fishlegs traced their path on the map as he walked through their current plan.

Hiccup hummed. The stew in his stomach diminished a bit of the skepticism in his tone. As he began to pull himself onto the part of the bed they were using as a makeshift desk, Toothless shifted. "What do you think makes the York new?" He asked, dropping his voice, because he really would rather his dragon get as much shut-eye as possible before they began their flight.

Fishlegs' grumble was a bit louder, "Probably the existence of an Old York," he bemused, playfully swinging his pencil as Meatlug chewed on one end of it.

Tilting his head as he watched, Hiccup hummed. "Where do you think that is?"

"No idea." Fishlegs said, finally cleaving the gronkle from his pencil and gingerly beginning to mark their path out. She squeaked in protest, chasing after it with a ferocity that reminded Hiccup that she hadn't had dinner yet.

"How many rocks are you planning on sneaking from the driveway?" he questioned Fishlegs, who only gave him a sly look in return. It was a silent answer: the only definitive part of it was that they would have to wait until Alicia went to bed. That brought a chuckle out of Hiccup, and he quickly changed the subject."So, how far are we from our path?" He asked.

Fishlegs continued to be silent for a few minutes, scribbling something in the margin of their map with expertise. Meatlug gave up on her pencil-eating escapade and crawled over to Toothless, nestling into the crook of his arm to join him in his nap. Her rider made a mark near the eastern border of Illinois a few seconds later. His answer was more of an unsure sigh than it was a statement, "a few miles, give or take?"

Hiccup took the map from him, studying the tiny distance between their coordinates and the coordinates of their flight path. On any normal map, that distance would have been a 30-minute flight – or less. He had no telling what the distance here would be. Again, he was taken aback by the sheer size of the land in front of them. With a swallow, he looked back up at his friend, "So we won't raise any alarms flying there?"

Sighing, Fishlegs straightened back up. "I don't know anything about these things. I mean seriously, what is it with these people and thinking that they can own parts of the sky ?"

"I thought we agreed to not try and rationalize our posterity's logic," Hiccup chuckled, which just made Fishlegs groan.

"I hope for my sake that no one here is from my bloodline."

Hiccup felt his brows pull together at that, considering the logic of it all. "You really think we're gonna make it back?"

Fishlegs didn't look up from the map as he answered, "Why wouldn't we?" He stated with such sincerity that, for a moment, Hiccup felt all his worries melt away.

But as they settled back onto his shoulders, they came with endless protests to that statement. He didn't let them escape, though. Fishlegs deserved that hope.

It was now Hiccup's turn to shift the subject. He bit the inside of his cheek. "So you want kids, then?"

It was a pointless question. Hiccup already knew the answer, what with the way Fishlegs handled his nieces and nephews. He was a family man at heart.

Fishlegs either didn't notice his concern or let the subject change slide. He snorted at the question, a preamble to his joke. "Not if they're gonna turn out this stupid," he gestured at the map of airspaces, raking his free hand through his hair.

A huff of laughter left Hiccup's nose. "I take it I should get Jazz, then?" He asked, already rising to his feet.

Without looking up, Fishlegs replied, "Please?"

Taking care not to wake their dragons, Hiccup swung around Fishlegs to the door, "I'll be right back, then."

Alicia's guest room, like the rest of the rooms in the house, was in a small hallway off the living room. It had a creaking floor and incredibly dim, but warm, lights – the fuses must be either corroded or iced over, because a few of them seemed to be holding on for dear life. It was probably the closest thing to torch light Hiccup had seen in quite a while – a well-needed break for his eyes, and certainly better than sleeping in the snow.

As he approached the living room, he could hear Jazz and her aunt speaking, reminding him to hook his Fenton Phone back to his ear.

He managed to catch the tail end of a question as it crackled on." –How is Danny doing, anyway?" Alicia asked, "I haven't seen him since his freshman year."

Hiccup's eyes shot open in alarm, just about every worry he had regarding their bounties suddenly at the forefront of his mind – yet alone the inevitable scandal Jazz would face if someone knew about her and Phantom's friendship.

But Alicia continued as if she were just talking about another human, and it made skepticism blossom in Hiccup's gut, which only grew at the woman's next question, "He working on getting his license yet?"

"No…" Jazz sighed without a hint of apprehension, "but you know how Danny is. Why need one when he has a big sister to drive him, right?"

Hiccup blinked as she chuckled, feeling a sudden realization blossom over him. It wiped away the concern. He'd forgotten – Jazz's brother. He shared a name with Phantom.

He'd never considered the irony of that until now.

With newfound confidence, Hiccup hung at the corner that bled into the living room. Jazz was sitting with her back to him, on the couch that ran parallel to the hallway. Alicia was perpendicular to her, one arm lounging over the back of her seat, and the other clutching a glass of alcohol of some sort. She seemed to find Jazz's joke about as funny as Hiccup did, because she pursed her lips.

"I'm worried about him, Jazzy." Alicia sounded like she was cracking open pandora's box with that statement, and she lifted her wrist a bit defensively, "And I know it ain't my place to criticize your mama's parenting – lord knows she'd kill for the both of you – but sometimes I wonder if she's too close to see it."

"...see what?" Jazz's voice had dropped quite a few decibels, sounding oddly like a child at that moment. It was strange to Hiccup's ears, and Alicia sent her niece another all-knowing glare.

"Jasmine Fenton, you are a psychology major. I know you're seeing the signs. Ever since that accident of his –" Alicia cut herself off with a curt turn of her head, like she was physically holding something back, " – I'm worried for more than that boy's physical health."

Jazz seemed to choose her next words very carefully, like she was walking on melting ice, "He's – he's a teenager," She chuckled as if that would lighten the subject at hand, "And he's got a lot going on. Junior year's tough, you know?"

Alicia hummed in disappointment, which seemed to do more to bristle Jazz than any one of her words had, "Maybe you're too close to see it, too." She muttered into her glass as she brought it to her lips. It was entirely pointed, like she knew that Jazz was in denial.

Hiccup decided to give her an out, bringing a fist up to knock on the wall.

Both women's attention snapped to him, and he offered a smile. After a moment's hesitation, he made a show of pretending to turn on the translator. This was a conversation, he felt, that would be better left between family.

It seemed his choice was the right one, the rigid edges that Jazz had pulled herself into softened just slightly.

"We could use your help," he stated, nodding back to the bedroom.

Jazz sighed, brushing off her thighs as she stood. She gave her aunt a curt nod before stepping around the couch and down the hallway. Hiccup trailed her, and despite his earlier resolve, questions were itching at his lips.

He'd only met Daniel the one time. But he had gotten the distinct impression that he was off . He had this…air about him, one that Hiccup hadn't been able to place at the time beyond the goosebumps on his spine, but now he had a description for it.

The gang had, once upon a time, stumbled across a flock of Terrors that had fallen victim to Viggo's hunters. It had taken them by surprise – Terrors, as easy as they were to train, weren't good for much beyond delivering messages; which still came with its risks, what with the fire-breathing and all. Still, Hiccup preferred them to carrier pigeons because their sense of direction meant that they weren't a purely one-way ticket. They could navigate between sender and receiver – perfect for someone with more frugal means.

But not only was Viggo rich enough to afford carrier pigeons for just about every island in the archipelago, he was rich enough to know that the labor of slaying Terrors for their pelts was more costly than the price he'd get from them.

But Hiccup digresses – the flock of Terrors was dead. Senselessly dead, bodies left for carrion. At least, that's what they'd thought until Stormfly and her world-class tracking skills led them to a nearby pond. It was on the small side – a puddle in comparison to the Nightmare that laid in it.

It was a juvenile. A teenager in dragon years, camouflaging patterns not quite overtaken by the adult scales that were appearing. The scars would probably get rid of the rest of them, once the cuts healed.

It became pretty apparent, the story. Nightmares were solitary creatures, very rarely forming flocks like other dragons. But they did have a proficiency for symbiotic relationships. It seemed in this case that the juvenile was, perhaps, separated from its mother too early, and the terrors found that opportunity too tempting to let up. A simple transaction, really: in return for teaching the hunting skills that the nightmare would have otherwise learned from its mother, the juvenile would provide the terrors with protection from larger dragons.

Though that sentiment, it seemed, was not very effective against dragon hunters, who tend to find juvenile nightmares particularly valuable.

The terrors had died fighting for their juvenile protector. And it seemed that the fight had left the nightmare's pelt too maimed for the hunters to bother finishing it off.

It had this look in its eyes, as Hiccup and the others tried to treat its wounds. Utter exhaustion, yes – it had lain in that pond for who knows how long before they'd found it – but there was something deeper there. Something that Hiccup could only begin to comprehend as guilt, as shame. Despite its age, this creature came from a long line of vicious, nearly invincible predators. One at the top of many, many food chains. And it seemed to know that about as well as Hiccup did. The mere power thrumming below its bleeding frame was enough for goosebumps to rake across his arms. Just as it seemed to drain the will from the nightmare's eyes.

Because despite all of that, it still failed. And it seemed to know the significance of that – its failure not only maimed its pelt, but killed those it was supposed to protect. The once prideful creature that laid in front of them – despite the power emanating from it, despite the fact that it could still kill any of them with one swipe of its claws – had been shaken.

It died a week later. But not from the extent of its injuries.

Hiccup didn't know why Daniel Fenton triggered that same feeling in him, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

If it was his place to know.

"Alright, your resident guide to Everything 21st Century Related (Major Technical Issues Not Withstanding) is here!" Jazz announced, cracking her knuckles like her aunt didn't just imply that her younger brother had suicidal tendencies. She knelt next to the bed, looking over their map in interest, "what is your query?"

Fishlegs promptly dove into their situation: namely the distance between their current location and the path they were planning to take.

Hiccup shook Toothless awake, considering this was something he should probably concern himself with. Despite the gentle nature, he still woke with a glare.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Hiccup couldn't help but chuckle, "you've slept for, what, 18 hours?"

His dragon grumbled in protest.

"That's almost an entire day." He chastised, pulling his arm until Toothless had no choice but to sit up. For extra measure, he plopped himself beside his dragon to block him from laying back down.

Toothless promptly decided to make him into a bed. Meatlug was quick to follow.

Sighing in defeat, Hiccup turned back to Jazz and Fishlegs. "So what exactly is our plan to keep these airspaces from detecting us?"

"I mean…" Jazz began, "we're technically banking on the idea that, if we ride right on the border, the airspaces won't know whose problem we are. As long as we aren't at, like, cloud-altitude, we should be fine. I think."

"So laziness is our plan." Fishlegs sounded like he was fraying at the edges.

Jazz shrugged, "Hey, you flew from Wisconsin to Amity Park without issue. I'd say laziness is a pretty solid plan."

That was a fair point.

"What's even the point of these things, then, if no one's policing them?" Fishlegs threw his hands in the air.

"I think you underestimate how big planes are." Jazz gave him a very pointed look, "We're just going to be blips on the radar compared to them, and I don't think that air-traffic control have considered stuff our size threatening since, like, World War II."

"World War WHAT?!"

I'm totally not gonna lie, I remember next to nothing about Aunt Alicia except that she didn't like Jack and she was recently divorced. So now she has the exact personality of my own aunt because I said so.

Also yes I did the world war what joke. I had to. It's my FAVORITE joke.

"Just because you have the 'tism, doesn't mean you can't have the 'rizzim. Just remember that because you're autistic, doesn't mean that you can't be rizztistic." - user "isaac.h. .backup" on tiktok

Until next time, my lovelies

~ Local Dragon Haunt