Following his father's death Hiccup is determined to do Stoick proud and fill his shoes in Berk. And he does... by slowly chipping away at himself. Sensitive Toothless knows his boy is getting lost but that's not the only troubling thing happening...
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By the time Hiccup reached the west shore he was wiped out. He rested against a rock, panting as Trooper sputtered and rolled over again. The terror was slowly coming out of his healing sleep.
The young man's eyes wandered towards a large, serrated dorsal fin approaching the sandbar. Mother sharkwyrm rose from the water, lumbering around with her snout to the ground that Hiccup had only just trod; her hatchling following behind squealing.
That was close.
...swim west to Death's Door and follow the sings.
Well he'd swum west. Now what? There wasn't another sign in sight... or door. Could it have been buried? Rotted away? Torn down by one of the residents? He peeked over the rock.
The big scullion still paced to and fro in front of the peninsula. It didn't smell blood so it knew the Sharkwyrms hadn't captured the walking kipper- which meant it must be returning to the mainland, to the peninsula, where everything returned.
The sign had steered him right- it was worth risking discovery to find any others.
Scraping sounds echoed throughout the island as her nocturnal residents slept. The creatures had a grating habit of sharpening their claws whenever they were not using them and of course the sound didn't bother them because they were deaf, but it was awful even to a thunderdrum.
Good that they were sleeping but what would be really good was to keep it that way. Now, what could he do to keep from being detected?
Three dips in the ocean had already been a big help; his scent was barely traceable. In legend Vikings bathed five times before setting foot on Skullion but meh he always thought that sounded like overkill. As long as he didn't reopen the wound from the arrow or get scratched on any of the fauna, he'd be ok- it was the vibrations that worried him.
The creatures were sensitive enough to tell when hemoved as compared to when they did. With that in mind should he walk past dens on tiptoe? It would surely rouse a dragon from sleep.
Hiccup set his feet apart, toes facing inward -what ones he had of course- and began imitating the shuffling skulk of the skullion as best he could. It felt absurd and he was glad no one was there to see it.
Finding the signs took time because he didn't yet realize what he was looking for. As he rambled though he became aware of indents in the ground.
Dragon tracks?? He thought in surprise. No dragon dares lay a talon on this island.
They were round, deep, smaller than Skullion tracks, and looked very purposeful- like the creature wanted these tracks to be found.
Were these the 'signs'?
Out in the open the weather had worn away any tell-tale marks to just what type of dragon it was, but they led away from the shore and into the island.
