How to train your Dragon Rider

~Chapter two: the Night Fury~ (Hiccup)

    I watched as the Night Rider flew away and shook my head with a sigh of relief. No one really had time to recover from their attack, because the dragons didn't seem to be done with their own raid. Some were blowing up houses, others stealing food, and some were fighting off other Berkians. I found myself watching as the other kids my age, Fishlegs, Snotlout, the twins: Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and Astrid, began running with their buckets of water,

Their job is so much cooler I thought as I leaned forward to get a better look, only to be hooked by Gobber and hoisted back inside. "Ah, come on. Let me out, please?" I begged, "I need to make my mark."

Dropping me to the ground, Gobber rolled his eyes "Oh, you've made plenty of marks. All in the wrong places."

"Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better." I threw up my hands in protest. "I might even get a date." While that wasn't my complete intention, it would be nice to be noticed by the female population of Berk as well.

"You can't lift a hammer. You can't swing an ax..." Gobber listed then took a bola (iron balls connected by rope). "You can't even throw one of these!" A Viking ran by and nabbed it out of Gobber's hand, hurling it at a dive-bombing Gronckle. The bola binds its legs, sending it into a heavy crash.

"Okay fine, but..." I paused and rushed to the back corner of the stall and presented my slightly bizarre, wheelbarrow-like contraption. "This will throw it for me." I opened the hinged lid of the device. An arm springs up, equipped with twin bows. They prematurely launch a bola, narrowly missing Gobber... and taking out a Viking at the counter.

"Argh!"

"See, now this right here is what I'm talking about." Gobber said, exasperated.

"Mild calibration issue-" I tried to explain, feeling slightly defensive,

"Hiccup. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all..." Gobber paused, then gestured in my direction. "this."

"But- you just pointed to all of me." I said, hoping to correct the older Viking.

"Yes! That's it! Stop being all of you." Gobber stated, glad that I was able to get the message.

"Ohhhh..." I nodded, warning in my tone.

"Ohhhhh, yes." Gobber mocked with a nod.

"You, sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw..." I gestured to myself vigorously, "Vikingness contained. There will be consequences!"

Gobber tossed me a sword in response. "I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now."

I took it begrudgingly and lobbed it onto the grinding wheel.

One day I'll get out there. Because killing a dragon is everything around here. Some Nadders landed, gathering like seagulls around a seemingly vacant house. A Nadder head is sure to get me at least noticed. The Nadders clamber onto the building, tearing the roof and walls apart. Sheep pour out and scatter. Elsewhere, hippo-like Gronckles pick drying racks clean of fish and fly off like loaded pelicans. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get me a girlfriend. A stealthy, snakelike dragon head peeks over a rooftop, breathing gas into a chimney. A Zippelback? Exotic, exciting. Two heads, twice the status. A second head pokes through the door and lights it.

KABLAM!

The two heads flew through the explosion, their necks zipping together to reveal a single body. It flew past Stoick as he climbed to the top of a catapult tower. "They found the sheep!" shouted one of his men.