Selene

Chapter Forty-Eight

Toothless stirred, opening his eyes.

What was that?

He'd been subconsciously listening to the strange events happening around the Southerners' hive all morning. He knew some of them had gone out reeking of confidence to fight with a people who smelled like the land. Elsewhere within the hive itself was a different mood entirely. It had spread right about dawn, a very nervous edge among most of the omega Southerners. A nervous, or perhaps rebellious edge. Why? He wasn't sure. He'd smelled blood about that time but that could have been anything.

Now a war was raging and he could hear his dragons trying to join it. Why didn't they? Were they stuck? Why did they want to fight?

The dragon keened restlessly, licking his lips. For a week he'd been stuck here in the arena without food and making due with muddy rainwater. At least he had good company... sort of. Griseomus hadn't yet succeeded in starving the fury into killing and eating the red and black Scuttleclaw, who was ignorant of his dire situation.

"I can't believe the stubbornness of this dragon!" the trainer hissed under his breath, watching the Scuttleclaw chew on his should-be-killer's ear. The fury snarled, slinking away. He wanted nothing to do with the spunky Scuttleclaw that he knew he couldn't get attached to.

"He's as bad as Stultus was. When will that survival instinct kick in??"

"You ever think that maybe, just maybe, killing other dragons isn't part of their survival instinct?"

The man slowly turned on his subordinate.

"Tacitus, look down there." He pointed into the ring.

"For wha-AHHH!"

The two hungry dragons snapped their heads around, eyes slits as the soldier fell into the mud with a splat.

"Tell me what you think of their survival instinct when you get out, will you?" He scribbled something in his notepad as the Scuttleclaw gave chase. It was to his disappointment but not surprise, half-hearted. The Scuttleclaw was more interested in slapping the helpless enemy human into his rightful, humbled place than eating him. He had better taste than that.

Toothless on the other hand didn't even bother. He was weary of all the fighting. So very, very weary. There was no point and even if he did destroy an evil human another one would replace it. Half of him wondered if the only good humans in all the world lived in Berk.

"We're all going to die!!"

There! He heard it again and there was no mistaking. That was the round Vikings voice!

A mighty leap and Toothless was clinging to the chains on the top of the dome, sniffing wildly and listening intently. What were they doing to that Viking? That Viking was his boys best friend! If he ever got his paws on them...

His teeth abjured with a throaty growl.

"Oh where's that attitude in the ring, Aerthirn?" Griseomus facepalmed. "Look that's not your fight! You get to have your battles on a stage with fans cheering you on. Wealthy fans. Powerful fans. Wealthy fans."

The Chief's dragon refused to even look his way, but spat an ugly word in dragonese.

"...grrr every quality of the greatest Imperial I could ever train but so bone headed I can't train him!"

"Does that mean training is over? Ow!" The Scuttleclaw sat on the soldier in the ring, ripping his helmet off and searching his head for bugs. "Can I come out now?"

"No. You stay down there until one of them eats you."

YYyyyyaaaaaawwwwwrrrnn!

Toes stretched to their fullest. The fury rolled over, swatting air as she dreamt of flying rabbits.