(DISCONTINUED) Legacy of the Thunder and Fury--Book 1--Shock of Betrayal

Two: Visitor

                                                  Heather

Someone reached out and gently shook her forearm, tracing a wet line of sand over the dry. Heather groaned and propped herself up on one arm, using the other to drag her sandy mindight black bangs out of her eyes. At first, only the bright glare of sunlight blinded her, but as her foresty green eyes adjusted she yelped and jerked away from the open side of the tipped boat. 

Crouching in front of her were five teens about her age, curiously watching her reaction. Heather pressed herself against the wood farthest from the strangers, fearfully waiting for their next move.  

"It's okay, we're friends," the tallest teen with the metal foot said with a soothing motion. Despite the fact that she didn't know them at all, she couldn't help but feel reassured. 

Heather coughed as her breath caught in her throat.

"Do..." She started but trailed off in another bout of weak coughs. "Do you have any water," she whispered. 

"Not at the moment," the first viking said.

"Oh," she whispered. 

Then a big, black, vaguely familiar head poked into the boat, pushing all of the gawking kids outside. Green almond eyes flashing with curiosity, a dragon the shade of black like a starless night stared at her. Heather squeaked and lurched backwards, falling with a sploosh in the sand water. Her heart hammered frantically against her ribs. Why wasn't it attacking? Why was it only... watching her?

"Toothless!" A voice scolded and the first teen shoved the dragon's head outside.

The Night Fury burbled in displeasure and sat on the sand, wings flopped down on both sides.

"Hey, why don't you come out?" The boy said, backing out of the boat entrance. "It's okay."

Heather hesitated and then crawled forward, ducking into the sunlight. Her eyes widened as she saw more dragons lined up on the sand; a Nightmare, a Gronckle, a Nadder, a Zippleback, and of course, the Night Fury. After a confused moment, she finally registered that the dragons wore saddles, strapped to their backs or necks. Most of the dragons looked friendly, if not cute--especially the Gronckle. The red Nightmare had more of a viscous feral look that set him apart from the other dragons. Then she remembered that she was supposed to not know anything about them, and therefore had to ask questions. 

"How do you do that?" She asked the boy she assumed rode the Night Fury as he patted the black dragon.

Before he could answer, the short cocky teen interrupted and said, "Oh, that? That's nothing. Watch this!" Heather glanced sideways at him, the tiniest bit annoyed, and he ordered the Nightmare: "Hookfang, get your butt over here!" The red dragon's head popped up like someone had stepped on his tail, and he leaped into the air, winging his way... in the opposite direction. 

Heather looked at the dragon's sihouette in a vaguely rapt way, keeping her face as straight as possible. 

The other teen gave a sarcastic chuckle, trying to act cool. "He'll be back. Jokester. Oh, and just so you know, I was the one who rescued you," he said, puffing up like a rooster. 

"And I would be Hiccup," the Night Fury's riders said, interrupting the one sided conversation.

"Heather," she answered absentmindedly, studying his metal foot.

"What's your name?" She asked the Nightmare's rider.

"Snotlout," he said, glancing at Hiccup in a surprisingly hostile manner.