Ah the joys of revision. It just never seems to stop. Welp here you go. I was supposed to be doing other useful life shit today. But I wrote this.

I know my place. I am the chief's son, chief-in-training, so-called pride of Berk and the first one to train a dragon.

But it hasn't always been this way. I always knew my place- as a freak, useless little runt, Stoick's little embarrassment and the laughing stock of the village.

Often it got too much, being a constant failure. Often I couldn't take it. After all, I wasn't strong- I was weak.

I couldn't fight, I knew I could never fight. So I ran. Through the front door and out the back. Well, more fell-and-tumbled out the back. But it didn't matter - I was free.

But nothing lasts forever. The first walk back took me twice as long as the run to the cove did. Mainly lack of any willpower.

I never expected him to be happy about it- his screw up son upping and leaving- but I never thought he'd be angry. Of all the things I got punished for, I never thought that would be one. But it was.

Looking back, it may have been intended to make me stay. It never worked. It just made me realise that everyone I knew wanted to hurt me, even my own father. It only strengthened my resolve to just get away.

When lifting anything remotely heavy or preforming any Viking like sports, I was the first to admit I was completely useless. Well, maybe not a fast as Snotlout. But running was something else altogether. I got so used to running in pain that running without it was ridiculously easy. I was by fat the fastest in the village which made it easier to outrun them. Faster.

The little place in the woods soon wasn't enough so I kept running until I found the cove. My little sanctuary. Further.

My tongue became sharper and my shield tougher. Excuses rolled off my tongue almost without any forethought and I managed to have a valid reason to slip away most of the time. Smarter.

I guess it also helps; all the energy I have now. In retrospect, it was all stupid really. Depriving myself of food because I knew I didn't deserve it only served to stunt my growth, making it harder for me to earn my food at all. It still hasn't gone away though. The constant thought that I'm not good enough. The voice in my ear every time I eat, telling me I haven't worked hard enough, haven't earned it.

So I make a trade with my body. I fuel it, it does all the things it's supposed to. It's a shame I didn't make the trade before. Running without feeling like I'm draining my soul feels awesome.

However far I've come, running away never truly left me. It was always my only escape despite the consequences. Somehow that part of my childhood was never marred by my father, my subconscious still sees it as a go-to coping mechanism, which may explain why I'm with Toothless on a sea stack in the middle of the ocean thinking these things.

I want to apologise for not updating the perfect time for rain. I will finish it soon, I promise! Anyway, leave a review and tell me what you think!