Okay, new story, yay! This one's a bit different from my other ones. Mostly because it's the first of my stories to not include Hiccup, Toothless or Astrid, lol. It takes place during the movie...sorta. It's actually kinda like a replacement of one of the last scenes from the movie in Ruff's point of view. I say that, 'cuz I don't think it's ever mentioned in the story, lol. More drabbley than I was going for, but what's done is done. Thanks for reading!

I do not own HTTYD or any of its characters, duh. :P

I didn't know where I was or what I was doing there. Heck, I couldn't even remember my own name. I think it starts with an R...?

I couldn't see or hear anything. All I could do is feel. And what I felt was pain. A stinging, burning pain at my right side. I've felt pain before, sure. But that usually only included lame tackling's or punches swung by my weakling of a brother.

Cautiously, I brought my hand to the spot that ached. I bit my lip as soon as I felt a cry ready to burst out. Tears welled up in my eyes and I was almost tempted to punch myself. Viking's don't cry. And Odin knows I was a viking.

A roar echoed above me, giving me a slight headache. It was then I realized where I was. I was on Dragon Isle. I was here with my fellow classmates [and annoying brother] fighting the Dragon Queen. Well, at least I was before I fell to the ground and somehow managed to scratch myself up.

I noticed the irony in the current situation. Just a few months ago, upon starting dragon training I was hoping for something like this. A painful looking battle scar. Every viking wanted one. Something to show off with a great story to go with it. Something that said, "Look at me! I'm a viking!" But perhaps that excited moment only came after the painful part and more closer to the scar part.

I bit down hard on my lower lip to keep another scream inside. Blood dripped down my chin as I realized just how hard I had bit. I wrapped an arm around the wound. It was below my chest, just above my right hip.

I moaned in pain, pressing down on the large cut; finding that that help subside the pain. Barely, but barely was better than nothing. I could feel blood gushing out of the injury and felt my eyelids begin to droop.

Don't you dare pass out, you weakling! I warned myself.

I heard voices around me. They sounded close, but they were too muffled to understand. I opened my eyes, hoping to see someone close by so I could beckon them over. The sky was dark, but the little light that managed to peak through the clouds made my head spin.

Suddenly, a large dragon leg raised in the air just above my head. Then, a second later I realized the foot was coming down. At me! Building up all the strength I could, I quickly whisked out of the way, rolling over the large pebbles and rocks beneath me.

Thankfully, I managed to dodge the stomp, but as I wasn't far from it, I still managed to feel its resulting rumble. The impact flipped me from my back to my stomach. I might have stayed that way, as I was too lazy to move, if a realization didn't pop in my head.

I wasn't a doctor, but from what little medical information I knew, I was sure my open wound sitting in a bunch of rocks, rubble and dirt was not good for it. We were strong, but viking's very seldom managed to live through an infection.

I rolled onto my back once again and groaned. Where in Thor's name was I that no one had come to help me yet? I paused, erasing that thought from my mind. Of course no one was coming to help me. We were viking's. Viking's didn't need help. We could take care of things alone. Most of the time. We were much too stubborn to ask for help, anyway. Besides, even if someone had come to help me, I'd probably just punch them out for even considering the fact that I was weak.

But I was weak. At least, at that moment. I felt as though my whole being was leaking out of that one cut, draining me completely. I shook my head, dizzily. I had to stay firm. I wouldn't let myself faint. I wouldn't become weak. I was a viking, I reminded myself for about the fifth time that day.

I put a hand to my forehead and forced my eyes open. If I was gonna try to get myself up, I might as well see where I'm going. My muscles must have not been in on this plan, however, as they felt like mud and refused to lift me even an inch from the cold ground.

I groaned again, but before I had a chance to close my eyes and give up; that same huge, ugly dragon foot was hovering above me, ready to crash down onto my defenseless body. However, at that exact moment, something collided with me, wrapping around my body and rolling me far away from my current fate.

The pain from the blow was unbearable, but I guess it was better than being Dragon toe jam. I glanced up and linked eyes with my supposedly savior. "Snotlout?" You've got to be kidding me.

"What in Thor's name do you think you're doing?" He shouted, sending drips of spit onto my face.

"Can it, beef brains," I shouted, ignoring the ringing in my head. "I couldn't move because of-" I stopped dead in my tracks. No way I was gonna tell "Snotface" about my injury. But then, I guess it wasn't hard to miss, as...

"Oh, Gods, what happened to you?" His eyes were on my cut and there was actual worry in his voice. I wanted to punch him for that, but both my hands were too busy trying to cover up my bleeding wound.

"It's...nothing," I tried.

"The Hel it is." 'Lout quickly removed my hands, pinning them above my head, so I couldn't bring them back down like I was stubbornly considering. As his right hand was occupied with that, his other hand ripped the bottom part of his tunic off.

"What do you think you're doing?" I questioned, when I noticed his nervous gaze placed firmly on my cut.

"It needs to be bandaged," Snotlout said in a rather smart tone. "Or it might get infected." I knew that.

Realizing he needed both hands for the job, he released his hold on my wrists. I surprised myself by letting my arms rest at my sides, instead of going straight for my wound, like I planned on doing just moments ago.

Something wasn't right. I was sure the person in front of me was Snotlout, but he sure wasn't acting like it. I stared at him curiously, while his eyes remained on my deep wound. I kept waiting for him to do something stupid; like call me a name or punch my arm or possibly try to hit on me in my vulnerable position. But he didn't. Or maybe I was just too out of it to take notice.

I blinked my eyes, barely registering what he'd just said to me. "Huh?"

"I said, 'you're gonna have to sit up'," He repeated, without even a hint of mockery.

I rolled my eyes, but complied. I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but quickly flopped back to the ground. I scowled at myself.

"Here, let me help." 'Lout offered, reaching out a hand.

I slapped it away, surprised at the force of it. "I can do it myself." I tried again, this time resting my palms to the ground and raising my head. Unfortunately, that's all I could raise before my arms gave out once more.

I tried again and again, each time a different approach. And each time another failure. But I wouldn't let Snotlout help me. I wouldn't. I-

Before I had a chance to attempt to pull myself up again, he grabbed me by the shoulders and hoisted me up. "Now hold still," He said, putting all his attention onto my slightly severe gouge.

"Now hold still," I mocked under my breath. His hands touched my sore stomach and I gasped, unable to keep it in. I wanted to question him when his hands lifted the bottom of my tunic up, just high enough to see the injury, but he answered his own action.

"I think it's better if I wrap the wound directly against the skin," He explained. "It might just fall off if around the clothing."

I could only nod, biting my lip. Surprisingly, his hands were gentle. Well, technically they were rough, but he was trying his best to be light as possible. He held the piece of fabric in place with his right hand and wrapped the rest of it around my body. The makeshift gauze managed to wrap around my body twice before he tied its end.

Satisfied with his work, he lowered my shirt, smoothing it down. His hands rested at my hips, as the last wrinkle disappeared, but they didn't move away. They just lingered there, and for a moment, that exact spot was burning more than the wound itself.

Flustered, I shoved his arms away and crossed my arms over my chest, accidentally running my elbow hard against my bandage in the process. I brought a hand to the wound and moaned quietly in pain.

Snapping back into reality, Snotlout turned upward at the recent burst of light that hit us. We were no longer in the beast's shadow. Who knew that thing could fly?

"We should get you out of here," He said.

I snorted. "Yeah, and where do you propose we go? The dang giant dragon burned all our ships to a crisp."

"I don't know," 'Lout answered, truthfully. "Anywhere but here, though." He looked directly at me, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Think you can stand up?"

"Yes," I lied. I got ready to try and force myself up like before, but Snotlout just rolled his eyes.

"We don't have time for this." And with that, he wrapped his arms around my shoulder and knees, carrying me bridal style out of the rubble.

I wanted to hit him so hard his head would fall off, but I was just thankful to be off the cold rocky ground.

"Once I'm back to my super strong self," I said, one hand awkwardly around his neck. "You're so going to pay for this."

He grinned down at me. "I know."

Then, all too soon, the walk was over and Snotlout was putting me down on a scaly surface. It was the Hideous Zippleback Tuff and I rode there on.

"What in Thor's name happened to you?" Tuffnut asked, running up to me and 'Lout. My brother glared over at him with a sneer on his face.

I rolled my eyes. Of all days to be an actual brother. "Relax, frog breath, the cut is my fault. Snotlout was just...helping me." The word felt like acid in my mouth, but it felt good to say.

"I'll go get Gobber," 'Lout said, already running off. The dragon teacher wasn't a doctor, but he was the only adult we all felt a close connection to. Plus, he had plenty of experiences with injuries before.

Tuff reached a hand out towards the bandage. "Does it hurt?"

"What the heck do you think, idiot?" I spat, slapping his hand away.

"So, your first battle scar," He started. "Nice."

I couldn't help smiling. Though, when I told the story on how I got it, I'd make sure it to say it was me who saved Snotlout. I rubbed distinctively at the wrapped wound, my fingers just barely grazing the surface.

Tuffnut broke the silence by hopping on the Zippleback beside me. "Still wish it had been a shoulder mauling?" He snickered.

I merely stuck my tongue out at him in response.

And looking back now, perhaps maybe a slight mauling on the shoulder wouldn't have hurt as much. But the wound I got instead wasn't so bad. Or what came with it. It could've been worse.

I mean, at least I didn't lose a leg.