Hiccup regretted speaking almost immediately. At once, every head swiveled towards him. He watched through the eyeholes of his masked helm as Stock raised himself from the crouch he was positioned in. The warrior chieftain hefted his large axe over his shoulder and spoke.

"And who might you be, son?"

Hiccup flinched minutely. Although Stoick's tone was guarded, it was a warmer greeting than he'd ever had from his father back on Berk. Hiccup idly noticed the absence of the usual disappointed scowl, before pulling himself back to the present.

"I'm the Chief of this island. I presume you washed ashore in the storm last night? Do you need our help?" Hiccup didn't presume it, he knew if for certain and of course they needed help, but a wise old man had once told him to always give your potential enemies a chance to make their own path. They could choose to attack, or choose to be friends. It was ultimately up to them.

Ever's basket lay forgotten and half filled at the edge of the orchard, as she played an exhausting game of tag with her nieces and nephews. Her brothers wives, Margaery and Ida, had already left the orchard, laughing at her for being roped into a childrens game. Ever didn't mind. Children were a gift, and she couldn't wait until she and Hiccup had her own. She stopped in the middle of fleeing from her niece, Calla, to wrap her arm gently around her flat stomach, thinking of the little life that grew inside of her. When would she tell Hiccup? Would he be pleased? No,of course he'd be pleased. Hiccup loved children, was forever chasing them around the village. She was interrupted from her ponderings by Calla, who sneaked up behind her and yelled 'tag' as she tapped her aunt on the elbow before running away. Ever, grinned, previous thought forgotten as she chased the children, twisting and turning through the trees.