Hiccup yelped in terror and catapulted himself away from Softclaws. Somehow he lost his balance and landed hard on his backside and scuttled backwards to find some form of cover before the dragon let loose her flame. It was no use. He couldn't run, not with his ankle in the shape it was. Still the maniac dragon approached him, her mouth hanging open. She exhaled and he automatically raised a hand to protect his face, even though he knew it wouldn't help.

But surprisingly, it was not fire that came out of Softclaws' mouth like he expected, but a mysterious purple gas. And the moment that gas touched his hand that was riddled with rope burns, the dull pain ceased, the angry red skin was soothed back to its original color, and the wounds closed up right before his eyes. He stared at his hand in wonder, then looked up at the dragon. She still did not try to speak to him, but instead gave him a look that said, Are you done acting weird now that you know what I'm trying to do?

A little sheepishly, Hiccup sat still for her while she breathed on his other hand, then his ankle. Feeling his bones shift and knit themselves back together without causing any pain whatsoever was probably the strangest sensation Hiccup had ever experienced in his entire life. It was so odd that he couldn't help laughing a little, but he stopped quickly, thinking that he sounded like he was going crazy. But Softclaws paused briefly in her work to glance at him and swish her tail gently, seeming pleased by the sound.

Now finally able to stand up on his own, Hiccup got to his feet and gave Softclaws a clear view of the harpoon wound. She made no sound. She breathed on his shoulder, and a breeze blew some of the gas into Hiccup's face and made him sneeze. Softclaws grunted, which might have been her saying, Bless you.

When she was done, Hiccup felt around the area where the wound had been, and though his hand came away dirty with dried blood, there was no pain. Not even a hint of it.

"Thank you," he said, and Softclaws nodded. She gestured with her muzzle over to where the abandoned village lay hidden in the dark forest, and then began to walk toward it. Hiccup followed her, curious about what the people that lived here might have left behind.

Soon, they reached the clearing. Long, dark shadows made it hard to see everything, but the moon, pale and full, shone its light on the ruins. Hiccup walked around, exploring. Just as Twig had said, there was a well in what seemed to be the village plaza. Surrounding it were several houses, all in various states of disrepair, the thatch on the roofs rotten and the walls riddled with gaping, jagged holes. On closer inspection, much of the wood looked darker than the rest, as if it had been burned.

"What happened here?" he asked Softclaws, but she only shrugged and made a weird gurgling sound. Perhaps she'd been born after the village was abandoned.

After walking around for a little bit longer, Hiccup saw something that made his breath catch and a wave of irrepressible nostalgia to sweep over him. A lump formed in the back of his throat, and he fought to hold it at bay. It was a smithy, broken down and battered and probably more trouble to fix than it was worth, but it reminded him so much of Gobber's smithy, of warmth and safety and home, that when he put his hands on the pit where bellows would heat the forge and bring the flames to life, he couldn't keep the tears back. He cried silently for the fact that he'd never see Gobber or Astrid, the two people he'd been closest to, ever again. That he'd never get to hear hushed stories of his father's heroics while sharpening weapons to keep Magnus from getting suspicious.

He would never see Berk again.

Softclaws nudged his arm, cooing worriedly. Given a few minutes, Hiccup glanced at her with red eyes and wet cheeks, wiped his sleeve across his face, and explained. "This is the kind of place I used to work in on Berk. Gobber would always keep the fires going, and it would always be toasty warm in the smithy even if it was twenty below outside. That was the closest thing I had to a home. . . . " Hiccup trailed off, lost in his memories and the bittersweet moment in the run-down forge.

Softclaws gazed at him sadly for a second, then gently blew more of her healing gas, aiming at his heart. Hiccup's vision grew blurry again as he realized what the healer dragon was trying to do. She could see his heartache, and she wanted to heal it the way she did his other wounds. But this was not something that she could fix, at least, not by breathing on him. This was a hurt that would have to be left alone for a while, one that would have to heal itself.

Softclaws murmured quietly and he gave her a tiny smile. "Thank you for showing me around. I think I'll stay here for the night, if that's okay."

The dragon chirped, still a little concerned but pleased at his decision, then carefully backed out of the smithy, spread her wings, and flew back to her herd. Hiccup watched her go, then climbed up the stairs to the living quarters. By now it was well into nighttime and a familiar chill laced the air. Without a candle, Hiccup blindly groped his way through the upstairs, which seemed to consist of a main room with a table and a small bedroom further in the back. He bumped into at least half the furniture, slammed his toes into numerous walls, corners, and chair legs, and tripped on a very old, very dusty vase that shattered on impact. Hiccup yelped when on his way up he stepped on a piece. Good thing he was wearing boots.

Sighing in frustration, Hiccup finally made it to the bedroom. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he found what looked like a chest at the foot of the bed. A flat pillow and a few old, musty blankets lay neatly folded on top, but the chest itself was locked. That could wait for morning when he could actually see where he was going.

Suddenly exhausted, Hiccup put the pillow where it belonged and spread the blankets out on the bed, one on top of the other. A yawn got out and he climbed into bed. Granted, it was basically just a thick wooden board nailed down onto the four legs, but to Hiccup who for most of his life had only known the cold discomfort of sleeping on frostbitten stone under a single, thin blanket, it was the most comfortable thing ever. One by one, the stresses of the day—Magnus taking him away from Berk, getting beaten to a pulp, rescued and sort-of-accepted by the dragons—all melted away. He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.

***

Hiccup must have slept like the dead that night, because he didn't remember a thing. Easing open his sleep-encrusted eyes, he yawned and stretched, sitting on the side of the bed and looking around at the room. Whoever had lived here before had led a very simple life. There were no decorations to speak of, only the bed, the chest, a desk in the corner, and a night stand with a dusty, unlit candle on it. A large window on the front side of the house let in long shafts of morning light through the cracks. Hiccup went over and pushed open one of the shutters. The hinges creaked and moaned with disuse, but held together. He peeked outside and was immediately met with the blinding light of the sun. He shielded his face with one hand and took in what he could of the abandoned village.

In the daylight, it was even more obvious that the damage done to the village had been dealt by dragons. Gigantic holes in the walls, shed scales everywhere—it was a total mess. The difference between burnt wood and non-burnt wood was quite difficult to spot, though, mostly because all the wood that Hiccup could see was burnt. The village was in total shambles, and even the well looked a little worse for wear.

Maybe, since I'll be staying here from now on, I could fix up the village over time, he thought. It would certainly give him something to do for quite a while. But first, he had to get things set up in his new home. And before that could happen, he needed breakfast and a bath.

Leaving the village the way he remembered coming in, Hiccup paused at the edge of the tree line, checking to see if the coast was clear or not. The meadow truly was beautiful, walled on two sides by steep cliff faces and covered all over in lush grass. Up on the cliffs were cave openings that dragons were coming out of, shuffling sleepily to the edge, spreading their wings in a great big morning stretch, and then shaking themselves awake. The Alpha was not among them, but it was still early. Maybe he just hadn't woken up yet.

Several yards away was a large network of what looked like molehills. Hiccup edged a bit closer, trying to get a better look at it. On Berk, moles were viewed as pests and their nests were destroyed as soon as possible, so Hiccup hadn't ever gotten a chance to see one up close. But after a few moments of watching and nothing happening, Hiccup moved on to find the river.

He kept to the edge of the meadow, not wanting to irritate the dragons by trespassing on their turf. Although, if the Alpha had accepted him, did that mean he was one of them and could go wherever he wished, as long as it was on this island? Hiccup didn't think so, at least not before he got Magnus' stench off of him.

After a few minutes of getting lost several times in a row and looping his way back to the meadow, he found the river. It was wide, and probably deeper in some places than he was tall, but he could see the opposite side of the shore. He looked for a shallow spot, undressed, and slid into the cold water.

Shivering, he scooped up handfuls of water and splashed them over his body and in his hair to get all the grime and dried blood off. The constant movement roused his stomach from sleep mode and it started growling. Hiccup ignored it, and when he'd finished bathing himself, he dunked his clothes, scrubbing them on the river rocks.

He was almost done when he noticed the pair of eyes watching him from a nearby tree branch.

As soon as he realized who it was, he yelped and ducked behind the rocks so the only thing the intruder would see was his face. It didn't matter that she was a dragon; being watched was NOT something Hiccup was accustomed to while bathing. "Seriously, Twig? You could've knocked . . . or shaken a branch . . . or something."

Twig didn't move from her perch, but instead squinted at him, cocking her head in confusion. She chirped out something, but she wasn't touching him, so he wasn't sure what she was saying. He sighed. "Turn around, I'll tell you when I'm done."

The Terror snorted, as if to say, "You humans are so weird," and turned her back on him, waiting.

Hiccup finished scrubbing his tunic and pants and wrung the extra water out, then put them back on again. It wasn't the best method, considering that they were cold and damp and sticking to him like crazy, but at the moment, they were the only clothes he had, and he was not about to run past a meadow full of semi-aggressive dragons with nothing on, even if they were animals and didn't care. "Okay, you can look now."

Twig turned back around and sprang off the branch, landing on his shoulder. As she did so, her thoughts flowed into his mind. What in the name of all the stars was that about? She didn't sound annoyed, just flabbergasted.

I was taking a bath, Hiccup explained, walking back toward the village, and I wasn't dressed. No one's supposed to see you when you're not dressed.

Dressed? What's that?

Odin above, how was he supposed to explain concepts like clothes and modesty and privacy to a dragon who had neither need nor knowledge of such things? Only one way to find out. He tugged on his damp shirt, indicating the difference between skin and the wool-based fabric that kept him from freezing at night. Our clothes. Humans put them on to keep from getting too cold.

Why? Twig asked.

Hiccup wasn't sure how to explain that. It's just our way, he said.

Twig pondered that for a minute, then asked, What happens if you get too cold?

We die. Why all the questions?

Twig shrugged. I've never really met a human before. I was born on this island. The first time I even saw one was when you and Magnus arrived on the island.

Hiccup stopped and stared at her, astonished. So you've never seen any other humans before that? Never?

Never.

Now it was Hiccup's turn to think for a while. If Twig had been born here and had never once come into contact with humans, that had to say something about how remote this place was. It was also probably why Magnus had chosen it in the first place: no Viking settlements anywhere and no hope of getting off the island without a boat, not to mention the dragons that would hunt him down if he tried to escape.

Apparently, he was more screwed than he'd originally thought.

Twig thwacked him gently with her tail. Hey, cheer up. Look, you might be stuck here, but at least you don't have to deal with Creepy Face anymore.

"It's not him I'm worried about," Hiccup murmured. "He threatened a friend of mine. I'm scared that he'll try to hurt her now that I'm not there to protect her." Granted, Astrid was not the type to enjoy being protected; she had always wanted to join the Berk Guard, a group of the finest warriors on the island. To be accepted into their ranks was among the highest of honors. Unfortunately, Magnus had disbanded it the day Hiccup's father had been pronounced dead, saying that he alone would protect Berk from invaders and thus, the Guard was no longer needed. Astrid really hated him for that.

But Hiccup had never seen just how good she was. If it came to it, could she successfully defend herself against Magnus? And if so, could she weather the consequences?

Stop, stop, stop, Twig moaned, clutching her head and rocking from side to side like she had a massive headache. I get it, you're worried about her. But you're gonna to drive yourself insane if you keep doing that.

I can't help it, Twig. I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to keep Magnus away from her when I can't even get off the island?

Twig was silent for a while, and by that time, they'd gotten back to the smithy. Honestly, Hiccup, I wish I could think of something that would fix it all, I really do. But remember, Magnus lied to you about killing the Alpha. It's more than possible that he could've been lying again.

And if he isn't? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He went upstairs and sat down at the table, wet clothes and all. Twig stepped onto the table and stared him right in the eyes.

Hiccup, it's no use worrying about something you can't control. Think positive.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, but the motion did not quell his worries. Easier said than done.

***

Quick quiz! Anyone know what kind of dragon Softclaws is off the top of your head?