HTTYD: Dragon Girl

Chapter 3: The White Creeper

I cross off yet another location on my map, scribbling out several previous Xs for good measure before slamming my sketchbook shut.

"Typical," I grumble to myself. "The one time I do something right, and I can't find actual proof."

I swat a branch away from my face in frustration, but it swings right back at me, smacking me square in the nose. I yelp and jump back, dropping my pencil. As I bend over to pick it up, I notice a large, deep divot in the dirt, one that continues for a dozen or so yards. All around the ditch lie broken branches and splinters, almost as if something very large and heavy was forcefully sent through the trees into the ground and pushed a ways more.

My pulse quickens. No way.

Suddenly stealthy as Vikingly possible, I crawl up behind a fallen tree at the end of the ditch. Then, after pausing to compose myself, I hesitantly peek at whatever lies beyond.

The sight of the humongous white creature startles me into crying out and dropping back behind the log. Then, once I'm sure my heart rate is (somewhat) under control, I look again, knowing a little of what to expect.

The beast is beautiful, smooth and white and motionless. As I look closer, I realize that it is not completely white, unlike what the Vikings from my rescue party told me. Its tail fins are black, as are the tips of its ears and the spines along its back. Its wings sparkle in the few rays of sunlight that sneak through the trees and bounce off. In this state, it appears harmless, wings, legs, and tail all tangled up in rope from my net. Its eyes are closed; it looks like it could be sleeping.

Awestruck, I move toward the dragon in a sort of trance. "I did it," I breathe, reaching out to touch its snowy scales.

The Creeper grunts, and I scamper back with a yelp. It's not dead.

I quickly reach into my pocket and withdraw my little knife. I usually only use it to sharpen my pencil, but it should make an acceptable weapon, right?

I carefully look back at the beast and jump. Its eyes are open.

I stare into the dragon's jade-green eyes, hypnotized. Its gaze is deep, entrancing, with eyes full of pain. Almost human...

I shake my head and raise my dagger, positioning it over the Creeper's huge chest. "I'm gonna kill you, dragon," I mutter, more to myself than to it. "I'm gonna cut off your wings and take them to Enger as a trophy. I am a Viking."

I exhale slowly, then raise my knife above my head, squeezing my eyes shut. But I can't stop myself from looking at the dragon one more time.

Its gaze hasn't faltered. It still stares at me, its eyes full of fear and desperation. With its eyes, it pleads without words.

I try to ignore it. I really do. But there's that little voice in my mind, telling me this isn't right. I see the humanity in the dragon's eyes and I can't do it. I can't do it.

My arms slowly bring the knife down, the flat end of the blade against my chest. I barely notice, tears welling in my eyes. I should be more than ready to do this. I should be thanking Thor for allowing me to be the one with the opportunity to kill the dragon that's been plaguing Skaldi for five years, that's been chasing me since I was ten, that I have to thank for the loss of my past.

But I can't do it.

Before I even know what I'm doing, my knife drops. But it's not plunging itself into the dragon's chest.

The ropes snap under my dagger's blade. I work quickly, afraid of what will happen if I'm caught.

The ropes fall to the earth. The dragon's legs twitch, as though testing their freedom. Then, quick as a flash, the dragon is on its feet, pinning me to the log at my back with its closeness.

I gasp for breath, unable to scream. I've made a mistake in letting the Creeper go, and now I'm going to die, the way I was supposed to five years ago.

But the Creeper doesn't really seem to want to kill me. Instead, it simply gazes into my eyes, green on blue, with an almost desperate look in its eyes.

"Astrid!" comes Unferth's faint voice from far behind me. He must be back at the hut.

My fear for my own life vanishes. "Go," I whisper to the white dragon. "Don't let them find you. Please."

The dragon doesn't seem to want to leave, but it does, giving me one final, mournful look over its shoulder before taking off.

I stand frozen against the fallen tree. That dragon has something to do with my past, I know it does. My real past, the one I lost.

"Astrid!" Unferth calls again, and I run from my only clue of who I am.