A/N:
Easter Egg time. For the previous chapter, I tipped my hat to the Foundation series, by Isaac Asimov. It was the foundation (pun intended) on how I ended up tackling telepathy in this story (and my other stories #ShamelessSelfPlug). The third book in the Foundation trilogy featured a character who was a very powerful telepath that gave me some ideas for the Red Death. Anyway, here are the quotes I used.

"Past glories are poor feeding."
"Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right."
"It pays to be obvious, especially if you have a reputation for subtlety."
"To succeed, planning alone is insufficient. One must improvise as well."
"It has been my philosophy of life that difficulties vanish when faced boldly."
"Violence is the last refuge for the incompetent."

Here in the Nest I Love

With wings locked in place, a strong headwind lifts me up higher and higher without effort. Arriving at a sufficient altitude, I flick my tail and pull in one wing to face the direction I want to fly and angle almost straight down, then level out with my wings partially tucked in to glide at high speed just over the waves of the ocean. As my speed drops almost too low to sustain flight, I give a lazy flap and lock my wings again, angling myself so that the wind can carry me aloft.

It is the most energy efficient means of flying long distances. Ascend on the thermals and stiff winds, dive, glide over the water where the wind is almost nothing, then ascend again and repeat. It's not the fastest way to fly, but it's the best I can manage for now.

I suppose it was unavoidable, really. Firefly is alive, but in dire condition. His left leg that all the land-striders were pointing and hissing at is something that will not heal. In fact, the entire body is draining itself of vitality while trying to deal with the injury. The offending limb is currently in Toothless's toothless mouth, soaking in saliva. Beast was not too thrilled by what looked like the dragon eating his rider's leg, but nobody could deny that exposing the burnt, shattered, and bloody limb to open air was much more harmful, so Beast eventually relented.

Stick-leg, having experienced the loss of two limbs - one of them from me while I was under the queen's mind snare if memory serves - has no room for doubt that Firefly will die if the mangled portion of his leg is not cleanly severed off immediately. Already, signs of infection can be observed, and it will only worsen as time drags on. Toothless can lick the surface all he wants, but death spreads from within.

Once again, surprisingly enough, the ability us dragons have to burn, shred, and destroy doesn't solve all problems. All the land-striders on the now-dead queen's island are just like us in this way. With the exception of the Beast breathing life back into Firefly, they are good at taking life, but not so good at giving it back.

They need the skills of a certain land-strider. Raven. The one who has comforted dragons as they die apparently has the skills to restore vitality to a dying body. She's back on that island where we trained land-striders, though. With all the wooden vessels shattered and smoldering from the queen's wrath, unless the land-striders learn to stride on water - an amusing talent one small species of wingless dragons possess - they're stuck.

All that, of course, led to Toothless looking to somebody to spread his wings to save the day. Somebody needed to fly off to bring back Raven to heal Firefly. Somebody was the only dragon with a pair of working wings after all the chaos and fighting. However, even after whatever paltry food offering could be scrounged up, somebody still felt like he needed to eat a shark and a bear and then sleep for several days before he could feel like flying would be a good idea.

The urgency of Firefly's condition didn't allow me time to go hunt for food on a nearby island or dive for fish, so I tried nibbling on the queen's flesh and ended up heaving myself sick. Unlike land-bound creatures, I don't carry around thick slabs of fat under my hide to sustain me for days without food. There's simply nothing left and now I'm flying over open water and feel completely dead on the inside.

I can barely feel my wings.

On top of that, flying has become so boring. That's just not right, even in my exhausted state. After all, what's more exhilarating than flying? Nothing! Absolutely nothing can ever come close to comparing. Flight is a thrill that never dulls or grows old. However, now I just feel like there's something missing from my life. Something with two arms, two legs, and black hair.

Toothless had mentioned that his Firefly had awakened a certain euphoria or something like that. He didn't have the ability to fly alone, but when his rider wasn't present, he felt lonely and incomplete. A sort of longing for something precious and lost. At first, It was difficult for him to even come to terms with such a feeling. Dragons don't feel lonely. It's as foreign of a sensation as the vertigo our riders felt the first time they flew. We don't seek and crave companionship as land-striders do.

I'm terrified to admit that, without my rider, flying is nothing more than a dull chore. Without Cougar roaring and crooning and shrieking and struggling to balance on my neck, it feels so empty. To make it even worse, I still feel a tug in my heart for leaving him behind without a proper explanation. There's only so much that growling and trilling and licking could convey, but once we realized that Raven could help Firefly, I simply didn't have the time or energy to spare to take my rider with me.

I snap my wings wide-open again, allowing the wind to fill them out and lift me up, giving me a moment to rest. As I gain some altitude, I take another good look at what was, not long ago, three specks floating on the ocean ahead. Another dive, another glide towards the specks. Another ascent. Another dive. Another ascent.

Well, how about that? These specks are really land-strider ocean vessels after all. I had assumed it was just coincidence that they were between me and the island I was flying towards, but they appear to be from that island even though I'm not even halfway there. A few land-striders meander about on each vessel. One of them is the withered, three-legged form of Raven with a little mink dragon perched on her shoulder.

I descend to circle around the vessel, unsure of what to do. Why is Raven here? If we had failed to kill the queen, she would only be hastening her own demise. I guess it has something to do with how she remembers the future, but what of the other land-striders? I came for Raven, but I'm far too exhausted to even try to fight off the others.

{Hookfang, if my vision was right, the queen has been destroyed and Firefly needs my help. These land-striders will not harm you. Please land in the clearing we left for you.}

That would be Raven for sure. She's proven herself trustworthy so far and I suppose I really have no choice unless I want to fly back alone to watch Firefly slowly die and Toothless quickly go insane. I comply, flaring to land at the leading edge of the vessel, talons wrapped around some branch jutting at an odd angle and wings wrapped around a tree sprouting out of the floor.

I've never been on a land-strider vessel before… I hate it! The whole structure feels like it's sinking under my talons. Like a sick beast a couple breaths from death, it heaves up and down with every single wave. All around, large, inorganic wings flap and flutter mindlessly like a demented dragon. Vines stretch everywhere at all sort of angles, hissing and snapping in the wind.

One land-strider has a shiny claw held out at the ready. I rear back and arch my neck to look down at him, fangs bared. He stumbles back a step, casting furtive glances as though checking if anyone would help him attack me.

Raven hobbles up to smack both of us with her stick, irritation all over her emotional hum. She then points to some sort of wide, stout logs near the center of the vessel. A couple land-striders remove the top of a log to reveal that it's actually hollowed out and filled with… with…

FOOD!

Fish! Ha! It's completely full of fish! Large fish! Small fish! Light fish! Dark fish! Best of all, no eels!

I lunge forward with reckless abandon, but stop halfway, casting a furtive glance at Raven. I am in no condition to make demands or take anything by force.

{Yes, dragon, this is my tribute to you. Firefly needs me and I need you to take me to him, but who would benefit if you simply fall out of the sky?}

Without any further hesitation, I enact a marvelous trick I've been perfecting my entire life where I instantly cause things to disappear. Now you see the fish…

It is with an amusing mixture of awe and disgust that the land-striders take in the sight of a dragon greedily snapping up the fish and shoving them down his gullet as fast as possible. I practically dive into the hollow log to scrape up the last of those delicious beauties clinging to the corners and it falls over, sending me scrambling across the vessel to chase it down. Instead of helpfully holding the log still, though, the land-striders just flee.

I then dunk my head into the other hollow log with fresh water, lapping and slurping with reckless abandon. In all my excitement, my tail whacks something and I hear a yelp and splash to follow.

Oops.

Land-striders can swim, anyway. I project an apology that they're all doubtless too deaf to hear.

It's the thought that counts.

Finally satisfied, I remember that breathing is a thing I should do sometimes and pant some air as Raven approaches me. Already, strength is returning to my body. I still could do with sleeping through several oscillations of the sun, but having some sustenance makes a big difference.

Nose flits down and paces around as if inspecting my condition. I'm still not sure what to make of him. He was an effective leader in our land-strider training, but also the most resistant to Firefly. When Firefly let us all out of our caves, Nose would have killed him and the queen would have my mind by now were it not for Zealot's swift intervention. I can honestly understand Nose's motives, though. We were all confused at best and paranoid at worst. He must have felt like every bit of stability he had ever taken for granted was turned upside-down and inside-out by that little land-strider.

Raven pats some sort of animal hide sack hanging from her torso, projecting details of various implements and consumable substances therein that would help Firefly. She then helps herself to my back. I allow it. I came for her, after all. It is only to my advantage that she met me halfway to her island so I wouldn't have to fly as far. Besides, by my egg, I certainly won't complain about the fish!

During the entire flight back, Nose is right by my side, absolutely silent. Not a single projected thought and all I can pick up from his passive hum is an ill-boding sort of resignation. Any inquiry as to what he's thinking or what he plans to do is met with silence and avoided eye contact.

Rise. Swoop. Glide. Rise. Swoop. Glide.

All around, many of the dragons who had been freed from the queen's mind snare swarm about, cawing and roaring and screeching and crooning, projecting a torrent of information to each other, sharing what they had seen and can now remember of their humiliating past. Speaking from experience, I know how harsh and difficult it is to come to terms with all this; it's the downside to having a flawless memory since the day we hatch.

These dragons here represent only a fraction of how many were freed from the mind snare today. As they "woke up" to realize that they were mindless thralls their whole life, madness ensued. Upon waking from the mind snare, where I had repeatedly smashed my head against the cave wall and tried to snuff out my life with my flames in that confined space, these dragons were flying freely. They roared and flew and attacked each other with fang and claw and fire to release their frustration and rage.

Some dragons, particularly the older ones, simply couldn't deal with it all. They folded their wings in and dove into the water below in a true expression of their newfound freedom over their own thoughts and actions. Either that or it was to drown out their grief.

Other younger dragons flew off to find their spawning grounds or to just live their own lives and fly wherever the winds would take them. Those currently surrounding me are the remnant left behind. As I fill them in on how Toothless and Firefly destroyed the queen - with the help of yours truly, of course - most of them decide to fly with me to see them. The idea of a single dragon and a land-strider taking down a massive queen that ruled over us for so long is, admittedly, a very large fish to swallow.

One dragon, a male emerald-green deadly adder, stares longingly at some of the bodies of the dragons who drowned out their grief, floating on the waves below. He desires nothing more than to join them, but it's as if his body simply will not comply and allow it. With a resigned sigh, he glides along with the rest of us.

The sea stacks surrounding the queen's island pass us by. The ever-present fog has parted and the dark clouds above have moved on to reveal a nice, starry night.

Rise. Swoop. Glide.

A thought suddenly comes to mind and I look over at Nose.

{You will not harm Firefly. I will eat you if you try.}

I would expect nothing short of hissing and snarling at such a threat. We dragons aren't Firefly. We don't return aggression with compassion. We don't warble and project some agreement as land-striders do, but deal with every situation in a very physical way. However, Nose simply flies along with that ever-present resignation in his hum. Raven strokes my neck reassuringly, but offers no insight into the dragon's strange and uncharacteristically humble behavior.

I angle in to land off to the side to avoid showering Firefly with debris and walk over. Raven dismounts, aided by Beast. Nose scuttles up to Firefly and Toothless, still as silent as ever. He sniffs at Firefly, enwrapped by his dragon's legs and wings, and croons sadly.

Suddenly, Toothless lunges, teeth bared, and snaps up the mink dragon in his maw. Nose makes no attempt to escape or struggle or fight back. He just limply hangs there with teeth lightly pricking along his belly and back. One wing is inside Toothless' mouth, but he has no offensive options at the moment except make his killer gag on a wing before the teeth come down hard.

{Give me one good reason why I should not kill you here and now, Nose!}

There's a dangerous tone to the black dragon's projections. His entire body quivers with barely restrained fury. I can't help but recall the very same demand made by Nose when Toothless was shoved into his cave, maw and wings all bound up.

We had already shared everything with Toothless. He knows this little dragon tried to kill Firefly when he released us all from our caves. Granted, I, too, once tried to kill him the day before, so I'm no more innocent than Nose, but I have had the opportunity to prove my change of heart beyond any doubt.

However, all Toothless can see is his precious rider, desperately clinging to the verge of life, and a little mink dragon who almost talked us all out of coming here in the first place. Uncomfortable questions linger. Could things have been different otherwise? If Nose was more cooperative, would Firefly have been in a better position to rally the aid of the other land-striders with more ease? Could our injuries have been avoided? Would Firefly's leg be spared its twisted and mangled fate? Sure, Nose did cooperate for that one training session with the land-strider students, but he was the most resilient towards Firefly's plan, especially after they flew to the queen's nest a couple days ago.

{Answer me NOW! Pathetic creature! Venomous slug! Backbiting eel! You would have killed MY Firefly hardly a day ago! You almost convinced the other dragons to not fly here with Firefly were it not for Raven's intervention. Now, you come with the pretense of remorse?! Explain yourself!}

Silence. Aside from Toothless' growling, absolute silence. Even the land-striders and dragons gathered around hold their breath. Nose holds his peace, but his passive hum radiates defeat and regret. He recognizes he was in error, that is clear. However, compassion is far removed from Toothless.

New questions arise. Nose didn't have to fly here. He could have gone his own way long ago. What brought him here? What did he seek? Could the pang of guilt, adorned with his overall weariness of his suddenly tumultuous life, have led him to seek this dragon's maw? Perhaps this is his easy way out of it all, just like those dragons who drowned themselves to end the pain of remembering?

Toothless is about to crunch down. One of those twitches in his neck will slam his jaw shut. Nose is ready to accept it. He literally delivered himself into the maw of a dragon who would gladly claim vengeance. Neither of them, though, are prepared for the one thing in the entire world that can stop Toothless - a force so powerful that his knees start shaking and the air is knocked out of him as he completely deflates.

His jaw slackens in shock and disbelief as his eyes catch a few slender fingers feebly grasping at his prey.

As he follows those fingers back to their owner, Toothless' hum turns from acidic anger to bitter doubt. Firefly had been asleep, but is now straining to hold onto consciousness, face as pale as ever, eyes half-lidded, gasping in pain at even this small gesture. Toothless opens his mouth with a petulant whine and lets Nose fall to the ground. Firefly's hum turns from panicked and worried to contented as he throws his last conscious effort into giving his dragon an affectionate pat before sliding back to sleep.

Toothless, ever the black-scaled extension of his rider's will, looks down at Nose, who rolls to his belly and looks back. Nothing needs to be said. Firefly's intent was clear as day. Nose scuttles up to Raven's shoulder and Toothless lets out a weary groan as he resumes his ministrations for his rider.

{Take your miserable life and leave me, Nose. If you want to make amends, you can do so by ensuring I never see you again.}

The mink dragon naturally echos Toothless' projections for the sake of Raven, who hobbles up and crouches over Firefly to inspect him, clicking her tongue in thought. She reaches a hand forward to stroke the black dragon's head.

{I will have to insist otherwise, Toothless. I plan to use his fire to help me heal Firefly. Your rider will not live unless I sever the mangled portion of his leg. I will do so now before he dies, unless you would like to throw a fit and cause even more drama.}

Toothless glares at Raven, but flops his head on the ground to allow her to work. I huff in amusement.

{Do my eyes deceive me, or have you traded one queen for another? I bet Firefly could merely suggest that he'd want you to eat your own wings and you would do so.}

The black dragon raises himself up on his forelegs, straightening his posture.

{Without a second thought, but Firefly is nothing like the queen. There is no coercion or control. I choose to stand for him! That makes all the difference in the world!}

Raven pours some liquid down Firefly's throat and I can feel his slumber deepen. She then spreads some heady liquids and oils on the rider's mangled leg, pricking the skin here and there.

Rock slides up to the other side of Toothless to lick her rider, who is trying to choke down his squeamishness as he assists Raven.

{Toothless has a good point. After all, when you think about it, is there no greater demonstration of one's freedom than to choose to live for a cause that matters to him?}

Raven pulls out some sort of shiny claw. It's very slender with many tiny teeth along one side. She then instructs Toothless to lay on top of his rider to restrain any thrashing. The dragon's teeth extend and retract wildly as he fights to control himself. The thought of watching Raven do this to his rider is almost too much to bear.

As if to distract himself from the sight, he flicks his eyes up to me.

{Only a few days ago, I was contemplating all the things I could do with Firefly. Train him to be my new tail fin. Take me where I please as I figure out what to do with my life. Escape the queen's reach with his aid. Everything has changed since then. I would sooner die than allow harm to come to him. We need each other. We were meant for each other! Who could see that a land-strider would come that could change the shape of my dreams? Helpless, now, I stand by him, watching older dreams grow dim.}

Raven mutters some sort of plea to her gods and drags the fine-toothed claw along Firefly's leg, just above the mangled portion. I wince at the spike of grief from all land-striders and dragons nearby. Even in his sleepy stupor, Firefly cries out and thrashes impotently under the weight of his dragon. Toothless howls and whines. Benevolent redoubles his efforts to keep Firefly's leg absolutely still.

As quick as it all started, Raven retracts the claw. She applies more of those heady liquids and folds a flap of skin still attached over the freshly severed stump. She then uses some very fine vines and a very slender iron fang to bind up the flesh. During all this, Nose had been blowing a narrow stream of fire at a smooth shiny claw, heating it up until it turned black. Raven takes that and presses it against any ragged edges of flesh before binding it under heavily oiled layers of soft hide.

With the deed done, she shakily stands, wheezing from the effort. I can tell she, too, loves Firefly. This must have been as difficult a task for her to perform as it was for Toothless to watch.

Barf and Belch sidle up with one head nuzzling Toothless and the other, Raven.

{You know, Toothless, this isn't all that bad.}

{Yeah, you see, your rider was always a light burden to bear.}

{But now he's even lighter!}

Toothless groans. {Quiet, dragon, before I get angry, because when I get angry, even flies don't dare to fly!}

{We are very frightened. After we find something to eat, I think we shall faint.}

{Yeah, just trying to look on the bright side.}

{Don't make me bite off your heads. Both of them!}

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A dragon on the roof.

Sounds crazy, no?

But here at my new island, one might say every one of us is a dragon on the roof, trying to bellow out a pleasant, simple roar without breaking his neck.

It isn't easy.

One might ask why do I stay up there if it's so dangerous? I stay because my rider is asleep and I'm bored. And how do I keep my balance? That I can tell you in one word.

Claws!

As my rider wearily stumbles towards the opening in the wall of his nest, I press down, dig my claws in to grab the edge, and extend my neck down to snap him up by his outer hide, flicking him onto my back. He yelps in surprise and I pump my wings to take off into the brisk dawn sky.

Now this is how flying is supposed to be! Pure, unadulterated exhilaration! We swoop and dive and spin, roaring and whooping with reckless abandon. All around, hundreds of other dragons ascend to join us, drawn by curiosity at the riders we usually carry around, as is common whenever myself, Stormfly, Meatlug, or Barf and Belch take to the skies.

We're all just waiting for Firefly to wake up. The land-striders want to have some sort of formal gathering to recognize him. We dragons also want to see him when he finally emerges from his own nest and walk among us.

So far, our presence on the land-striders' island has been met with a distinct lack of retribution and a notable attempt at hospitality. I must say I'm downright impressed, considering they have known nothing but death and destruction from us for countless generations. They've been so calm, in fact, that when confronted by a non-aggressive dragon, they hardly even start waving their shiny claws around before remembering we're no longer mindless thralls… most of the time.

In response to such consideration from the land-striders, we have done our best to minimize our disturbance to their lifestyle. We mainly just roam the forest when not flying and never steal food as that would only remind us of our humiliating past as the queen's mindless thralls. Well, I suppose it's not accurate to say that we never steal food, but we never do it on purpose.

For example, I recently learned that a ragged goat carcass hanging from a tree isn't really an offering for any dragon to eat. However, we've learned a nifty little trick. If another dragon slaps the offender on the snout with his tail, the land-striders become so distracted laughing in amusement that they forget how angry they're supposed to be. It helps to smooth out ruffled scales.

Of course, this surely cannot last forever and we know it. Even if the land-striders would enjoy nesting among hundreds of dragons for the indefinite future, we need our space. If things get too crowded for too long, we have a tendency to start killing each other as food, mates, and nesting grounds become too limited. Conversely, if we are spread too far and thin, then we are naturally drawn together in search of mates and hunting partners. Currently, our unified bewilderment as to what to do with our suddenly free lives and our reverence for Firefly and Toothless has united us, but it cannot last forever.

Toothless, myself, Stormfly, Meatlug, and Barf and Belch are the exceptions, of course. There shouldn't be any issue if we are here to stay. Not that we wanted to. Well, not initially at least. Toothless had no doubt in his mind that he would live and die by Firefly's side, but the rest of us had tried to simply fly away. We tried to embrace a solitary life like the other dragons. We tried to shed our riders and prove that we can be just as happy without them.

We failed so miserably.

It's just never going to happen. Cougar has filled a certain void the deceased queen had left behind. Flying with him is so much more enjoyable than flying alone has ever been. Besides, we share a certain understanding. I let him ride on my back when he's bored and he flies with me when I'm bored. He tries to impress his peers by ordering me around and I use my tail to knock him to the ground. He points at some wooden object and orders me to annihilate it, I set his outer hide on fire and he frantically runs around for water to quench the flames.

See? We jive together!

Despite all this, there are still moments of tension between land-striders and dragons. Sometimes, watching a land-strider come to terms with the fact that a dragon isn't trying to bite his head off can be quite amusing, especially after they've consumed some sort of brown, foamy liquid. For example, every night, when Beast returns to his nest to see Toothless curled around Firefly - who is related by blood, as hard as that is to believe - he feels the pressing need to express his observation of the obvious as some means of coping with reality.

{You're a dragon. This is my nest. You're a dragon in my nest. And you're not attacking me. I kill dragons. Well, not you, you're fine. Did you know you're a dragon? You killed my mate. Well, not you, you're fine. Some other dragon killed my mate. Do you know him? I will find him and kill him. You're a dragon. This is my nest.}

Depending on how much of this brown, heady liquid Beast has consumed that night, this could go on for quite some time. Add Stick-leg to the scene and things get even more entertaining. The amazing thing about this is that land-striders seem to be more clear in their thought projections than normal when they think with their lips in this state. It annoys Toothless to no end, but I am more amused than I probably should be.

Cougar whines at my distracted flying, snapping me out of my pondering, and I express my thoughts by snapping my head up to smack his face with my horn. He whines even more about his abusive dragon as he nudges me into a dive and I comply. That, too, is something I'm learning to accept: giving and taking. Just as having a rider makes flying so much more fun, allowing him to have some control over where we go or how I fly thrills him to no end. He loves to soar up high on the winds and then dive fast to skim over the water. I'm still working on training him to handle spins and loops. For some reason, the feeling of complete weightlessness scares the breath out of him. Literally, because I've had to catch him a couple times when he fainted.

Maybe, when he gets a bit bolder in the air, I'll grab him in my talons, drop him, catch him, and repeat a few times. If that doesn't build up his confidence in me, I don't know what will.

After we've both had our fill of wind and excitement, but before my rider freezes to death, I descend and land in a clearing among all the wooden nests. Nose zips past me, mouth and claws filled with various bits of plant life. He had learned that he could indirectly help Firefly by aiding Raven in collecting certain mushrooms, leaves, flowers, worms, and insects from this island and others nearby that would be harder to access for wingless creatures. Raven then uses these to make various concoctions to feed Firefly or rub onto his severed leg to ease the pain and keep him sleeping peacefully. Toothless still turns his tail, but he cannot deny the mink dragon is trying hard to make amends.

Cougar dashes off, but returns shortly with some more appropriate outer hides for flying that were formerly part of a yak. He inquires why I'm suddenly hopping around in excitement and I try to tell him, but, of course, he's deaf. From inside Firefly's nest, Toothless projects his unrestrained excitement and joy. Firefly is finally awake!

I nudge my rider to hop up and we take off to flare to a hover just outside of Firefly's nest. A part of the wall opens up and Firefly sticks his head out, but seeing me right there in front of him causes him to stumble back in surprise and shock. Oops, I tend to have that effect on others. To be fair, I suppose this is bringing back flashbacks to the last raid, before I was captured, when I hovered in just this very spot and tried to roast him alive.

Toothless grumbles at me from the other side of the wall in irritation and I fly off to settle down nearby. Firefly emerges once again, leaning heavily on the side of the nest. Where the mangled portion of his leg was severed off, some sort of iron and wood stick serves as an awkward replacement, just like with Stick-leg. Beast spots him and rushes in to offer support with a large arm around the diminutive rider.

Dragons and land-striders alike flock to gather around, climbing over each other to get a look. During Firefly's extended rest, Stick-leg had found a way to make a new artificial tail fin for Toothless. He decides that there is no better time than right now to dump that burdensome weight on Firefly. The rider stumbles under the weight, but a smile splits his face at the sight of a new tailfin for his dragon.

Zealot sneaks up and smacks Firefly in the shoulder and he recoils in pain and surprise. Awww, she likes him! I can now see why Stormfly is so fond of her rider. Second to my Cougar, Zealot is one of the most dragon-like land-striders. We all enjoy a little pain here and there to make life more interesting. A gentle mauling on the shoulder or lower back can be quite invigorating. It reminds us we're still alive.

Zealot then proceeds to clean Firefly's lips with her own because… ummm… land-strider logic. Somebody nearby mutters something about mating, but speaking from experience, I'm pretty sure that's not how it works.

Toothless suddenly explodes from Firefly's nest, where he had been impatiently waiting, hopping on and over anyone in his way. The rider grins at his dragon and hefts the artificial tailfin to suggest they fly, which would certainly make it an awkward moment for his knees to buckle, but who didn't see that coming. Even Toothless knew better than to expect to fly today. Firefly is awake, but still recovering from his injuries and needs food and exercise and rest.

And a dip in a lake. Sure, it's great to have a nice, aromatic, protective crust on one's exterior, but Firefly hasn't been able to properly relieve himself for almost a full cycle of the moon.

To think Toothless has had to endure that for so many days. Poor thing.

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Ever since I flew back to Cougar's island, free from the queen's mind snare and also free to roam and mingle with the land-striders, I've had plenty of opportunities to get to know them better.

For example, I've seen that they can be very indecisive at times.

I'd be laid out on the ground near Cougar's nest, soaking in the sunlight, when some little land-strider hatchlings started poking and petting me and climbing all over. I just let them do their thing since they didn't have any shiny claws and clearly were not hostile. Besides, with hardly a couple flicks of my snout and some encouraging trills, I was able to train them to stroke me under the chin, which felt amazing all up and down my whole spine.

Concerned that I might suddenly decide to bite the hands that pet me, some older land-striders standing nearby would shoo the hatchlings off. Soon afterward, they would come again. I paid little attention, but this occurred many times. Hatchlings come and play, older land-striders shoo them off.

After the seventh iteration of this, I figured I'd help out the older land-striders by shooing off the little hatchlings myself. I can be a kind dragon at times, so I bare my fangs, blew plumes of smoke from my nostrils, and growled. It had the intended effect of sending them fleeing from me, but the older land-striders standing nearby had the most difficult time expressing their gratitude for my thoughtfulness as they waved their shiny claws at me.

See? They're just impossible to please! Give credit where it's due!

Seriously!

One of the more peculiar things I've seen - well, more like revolting - led me to conclude that land-striders are absolutely disgusting creatures.

That may sound harsh, I know, but it's not just me who has made this observation. It's the gossip among all dragons. Once, I saw a land-strider pluck up some orange plant from the ground, brush off the dirt, and eat it. That thing was a part of the ground only a moment ago and he just ate it! What is he, a goat?! At least they have the decency to eat what grows above the ground. Why not just be lazy and eat dirt like some sort of… worm of death-eater!

That's not even the half of it! Take their hunting habits. I suppose I can overlook the fact that they breed, raise, and feed their food before killing and eating it, which seems completely counterproductive to me, but it's what they do after the animal dies that is so unwholesome. They separate the sinew and fat with painstaking care, pluck the feathers from chickens, and stretch out the disembodied hide.

And that's only the beginning!

They would then proceed to smear it with oils, minerals, and bits of plant matter, smash it with a stone on a stick, drown it in water, strangle it with thin vines, burn it over fire, suffocate it with smoke all day long, impale it with a stick, set it out in the sun or near a fire to dry out and shrivel up, pack clay around it… the list goes on. By the time they're finally ready to eat, you can't even tell what that substance used to be! There's no way to discern whether that dripping, plant-riddled mush used to be a fish or a sheep or an elk.

It's horrible! It's disgusting! It's… unnatural!

Granted, I'll admit that when Cougar tossed me some samples, they usually didn't taste that bad, but that's beside the point!

I felt it was up to me to show him proper manners. The next day, we were on a nearby island, resting upon a bluff, enjoying the scenery below of leaves falling from the trees to flutter in the wind. Down below, in a clearing in the forest, a lone black bear was pawing through the undergrowth.

Not one to pass up an opportunity, I plucked up my rider and flipped him onto my back, spread my wings, and started to glide down. The bear didn't see or hear me coming, but he sure felt it. I pounced hard, digging my claws into his back to throw him down on his side. He scrambled up only to receive a face full of my fire, which had the dual benefit of killing him without any risk of fanged retaliation and also burning up all that icky fur.

Once he was reduced to whimpers and uncoordinated twitching, I set into tearing out mouthfuls of meat and even tossed a chunk to my rider. Disgust was written all over his face and passive hum, so I cracked the bear's skull open and gave him the most delicious part.

He just didn't get it! He's so accustomed to his own repulsive eating habits that he can't even recognize simple elegance when he sees it.

Oh well.

Today, I'm making one more attempt to communicate with a land-strider. Not Cougar, this time, and not through gestures either. My target is one particular land-strider that has always supported Firefly, according to Toothless.

Target spotted, the Stick-leg who oversaw the land-strider training we took part in, I swoop down to confront him. A sour look washes over his face, but it doesn't phase me. I brace one wing on the ground to steady myself and reach forward with a claw on the other wing.

Raven had warned me it wouldn't be a good idea to make a habit of doing this, as it may come as a shock to the land-striders and raise a lot more questions than anyone would like to answer. Still, just this once, considering it's Stick-leg, she approved and showed me what to do. If there was one land-strider we would benefit from winning as a friend - aside from our riders - it would be him. According to Toothless, this is the one land-strider who gave Firefly a reason to live throughout his entire life.

Raven's memory is so faulty that Nose sometimes needs to remind her she's freezing to death and needs to put on some more hairy hides, but she was confident that the shapes she taught me were accurate. The structure and meaning behind these shapes are just as ambiguous and arbitrary to me as the very principle of scratching one's thoughts into the dirt instead of simply projecting them, but I carefully go through the motions anyway. I have absolutely no doubt of my memory, but these intricate scratchings are fairly hard to form properly. Still, as the patterns emerge, I can feel Stick-leg's emotional hum shift from annoyed to curious to a shocked sort of awe.

Finished, I take a step back. It is important that he sees not only these shapes, but that it was me who made them. Unlike projected thoughts, there is no signature to dirt scratches that declare who's thought it is aside from watching me make these scratches.

Just to be safe, I project the thoughts the normal way, too.

{Sorry I took your leg. It was not I who took your arm, though. That dragon died a few years ago.}

Reviewing all the details of my memories left no doubt about it. Looking back, I feel no pride. I was under the queen's mind snare, so everything I did was forfeit. Stick-leg has been fairly calm around us dragons these past few days, but as the land-strider Firefly looks up to the most, we need him to feel like he can really trust us. Now that Firefly has a black-scaled shadow named Toothless - who may as well be the rider's outer hide of how inseparable they are, I don't want Firefly to lose Stick-leg just because the queen made me bite off his leg.

Stick-leg looks up at me, then down at the scratches, then back up at me, down, up, down, up. As impossible as it sounds, these scratches really are communicating thoughts! He uses the iron attachment to his severed arm to scratch the back of his head in thought. Things are starting to get a bit awkward, so I swipe at the patterns with my wing to effectively, uhhhh, destroy the… projected thoughts in the dirt.

Overhead, Toothless swoops down low, bellowing out his joy at his first flight with his rider since they destroyed the queen. I turn to find my own rider so we can chase them together, but something squeezes around my tail. I crane my neck around to see Stick-leg with the fingers of his good hand grabbing onto me. He gives me an affectionate pat and a broad smile before turning to proceed along his way, warbling and laughing happily.

Rider found, we go through our usual game where he tries to jump up onto my back before I snap him up with my teeth. A quick duck and roll to the side before leaping up makes him the winner… this time.

We take off and give chase, swooping and gliding and rolling in the sky. Toothless takes his flying easy for the sake of his rider, who's still recovering and really shouldn't be flying in the first place. That and he must have lost a bit of strength from being land-bound so long. Still, he can't resist climbing high into the sky, chasing the shafts of sun managing to stab through the clouds, to give Firefly a brilliant view of his island.

There's no denying it. Land-striders are crazy and disgusting creatures with silly ideas flitting through their minds, but I think I'll stay. Sure, it's not a perfect life, but it's the life I choose and that makes all the difference in the world. The food that grows here is tough and tasteless - and the land-striders even more. The only upsides are the pets. While most places have elk or bears, which are nigh impossible to domesticate, we have something far more entertaining.

We have riders!

A/N 2.0:
Whew! And that's a wrap. Lights, curtain, cue the fat lady to sing - would that be Meatlug?

Thank you for joining me on this whacky adventure. I'd love to hear your thoughts on how things turned out. All sincere critiques are good critiques. (-:

Thanks to Colorful Crayola and my bro (he still hasn't watched HTTYD yet) for being my beta readers throughout the entire story.

This story was meant to be the last fanfic I write, but my stupid little brain is already coming up with an itch to write a crossover between HTTYD and The Stanley Parable. I know what you're thinking. "But how… why…I mean how would you even… this can only be a terrible idea!" To which I say, "You're absolutely right!" Follow me if you wanna be notified when it comes out. It also strokes my ego in all the right ways, but that's beside the point.

Oh, I almost forgot! Easter egg time, since this is the last chapter. I threw in some lines from a musical called "Fiddler on the Roof". Here are the quotes I used:

"Once I was happily content to be
As I was, where I was
Close to the people who are close to me
Here in the home I love…"

"Who could see that a man would come
Who would change the shape of my dreams?
Helpless, now, I stand with him
Watching older dreams grow dim."

"Tevye: Quiet, woman, before I get angry! Because when I get angry, even flies don't dare to fly!
Golde: [sarcastically] I'm very frightened of you. After we finish supper I'll faint."

"A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But here in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn't easy. You may ask, why do we stay up there if it's so dangerous? We stay because Anatevka is our home... And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word. Tradition!"