How To Train Your Dragon 3 - A Tale of Two Tails -

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Genocide

Everyone woke up bright and early the next morning to pack up because they were heading off earlier than expected. They mounted their dragons, waving the beautiful isles goodbye as they prepared for their next stop. Hiccup had faith that the next island would bring more promises, though he was concerned at the lack of dragons at Foot Rash Island.

As they soared through the clear skies, Toothless noticed that Hiccup had his thinking face on.

"Worried?" he quipped from atop Cloudjumper.

"Of course I am. No dragons! Not a single one. You remember, there were dozens the last time we were there."

"Migration?" Fishlegs offered, "I mean, the holidays are almost here."

"Yeah, m-maybe you're right."

"Actually no, he's not. If the migrations started, these guys wouldn't be here," the Night Fury said as he gestured towards the gang's dragons who were flying rather peacefully.

"Lack of food, lack of water?" Fishlegs continued.

"Or maybe..."

"Trappers," Astrid said with a deep frown.

Toothless continued to ponder the thought with an uneasy growl. The number of people who continued to hate dragons was still bountiful and he knew it. He silently wondered if they were putting Berk's safety at risk by going on this expedition. The more they explored and the more dragons there were on Berk, the more of a target they became for people like Drago or Viggo. He didn't like the thought one bit.

He tried to take his mind off things by glancing to the side, seeing that Sirena was talking Eret's ear off. He smiled at her silly grin and rolled his eyes playfully when he watched her run her hands through the clouds.

Cloudjumper craned his neck to smirk at him.

Toothless caught the dragon's eyes.

He rolled his eyes and looked to the front, lighting up at the sight of the upcoming island.

•

Their next destination was a beautiful fjord. It boasted verdant valleys and high cliffs which loomed over the oceans, giving off an eerie and unwelcome feeling. Surrounding the island was about a hundred sea-stacks. Its woodlands appeared misty as fog skirted the trees, posing an aura of mystery.

"What did you call this one Hiccup? Mildew's Buttocks?"

"A-actually, Snotlout, this is Balder's Rock."

"Yeah, Mildew's Buttocks is due South," Toothless sighed before he turned to Hiccup, "We really need better names, bud."

"Well it was either that or Tuffnut's Di--"

"Okay! I'm gonna stop you there," Astrid said before she gagged, "And my lunch is in my throat."

•

Toothless let out a string of curses as their camp collapsed for the sixth time. Eret put his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrow in bewilderment at how bad he was at pitching a simple tent.

"Dude--"

"Don't. Even."

The trapper pursed his lips, trying to stifle a snort when he swore again, this time from tripping over the collapsed fabric. Even Hookfang was having a jolly good time laughing at him. Toothless sat back up, fuming at them as he kicked a fallen pole in frustration.

"That's it! I give up!"

"That's what ya' said the last time, lad."

Toothless groaned loudly before he picked the pieces up again, continuing to work as he grumbled unintelligently.