Rescue Missions & My Horrendous Luck

Sandbusted

A/N: Using more dragonese in this one, though Wattpad doesn't want to keep the underline parts underlined, so it's kinda hard to tell. Mostly used while y/n is alone with them. It's more like dragon-speak from Eragon than dragonese from Cowell's books since I know the Inheritance series better. I don't own the video or the song. It just fits y/n's mindset at the moment.

Your POV

Y/n, I'm sorry. Alpha's gone missing. Find him. Come home. I reread Valka's note as I gave my exhausted Terrible Terror messenger a good belly rub. He earned it for trekking across the Northern Sea to find me. I was helping the Wingmaidens with the start of the Razorwhip nesting season when the little guy crashed into me like the bolt of lightning a few months back.

"Thanks, Bolt!" I had stated as I pulled the note from a tube tied to his back. He stared at me, clearly pleased with himself, his tongue flicking out to lick his left eye. I giggled. He always had a way of cheering me up.

It had been a rough couple of months. I was plagued with flashbacks, blackouts, nightmares, and a heightening fear that there was something growing in me from an encounter that I couldn't seem to escape. That fear was quashed when I fell ill with sharp pangs shredding through my abdomen. I had blacked out for days, my senses unable to get past the blood and pain that tore me apart.

When I finally came back around, Valka told me what happened. She was sympathetic, but I could see the disgust in her eyes. I packed what supplies I needed and left before she could tell me how much I had failed her. - I learned later that she wasn't disgusted with me. She, like Stoick, was furious at Ryker, the difference was that he was already dead, so she couldn't act on her rage. - I found refuge with the Wingmaidens, caring for the hatchlings the way I used to when I was younger.

Caring for them was somewhat healing and gave me a chance to get my mind off of losing my own. Part of me was grateful that it ended that way. I didn't want any part of Ryker Grimborn to live on. I wanted to get past it. It just wasn't that easy.

I folded the note, sliding it into a pocket in my skirt. Atali had given me a new set of armor when she realized that I was riding around unarmed and underdressed in my plain brown tunic and green leggings. The silver pleated skirt, single-sleeved top, and silver shoulder plate clung to my form. It wasn't my favorite, I definitely preferred the loose-fitting comfort of my old outfit, but it was battle ready and would protect me better from dragon root arrows.

Even though, the Grimborns were gone, the hunters weren't completely disbanded. There were rumors of trappers in the South and Flyers from the far North and Johann was still out there using his skills of storytelling to destroy the rest of what I held dear. I prayed that they would stay away from Hiccup and the Riders, stay away from Berk, but I knew they weren't that lucky. My fingers unconsciously toyed with the folded paper. It was about time I got back in the fight.

I quickly packed my bag. Two jars of Monsterous Nightmare gel, a vial of Changewing Acid, three rolls of fresh bandages, my stationary kit, a canteen of the life-saving antidote, and my newly patched tunic and leggings. I also grabbed whatever food supplies I could find: boar and yak jerky and a couple of apples. I hoped it would be enough for the trip, but where I was heading I knew I could easily restock my supplies.

Lifting Bolt onto my shoulder, I tilted my head back and let out a sharp whistle, calling for Zyphur. She had joined the other mature female Razorwhips on the far side of the island, protecting the eggs from encroaching males who sought to crush them. Razorwhip males have a nasty habit of trying to attack anything in sight, be it dragon, wolves, skinny fishbones who were minding their own business. I had learned my lesson the hard way and I was not looking forward to trying it again.