The Hiccups Along the way -HTTYD-

Dark As Night

This is Berk. It’s twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It’s located solidly on the meridian of misery.

My village. In a word, sturdy. It’s been here for seven generations, but every single building is new.

We have fishing, hunting and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests. You see most places have mice or mosquitoes.

We have…

“Dragons.” I gasped loudly. Pushing my back up against the front door I felt the heat of a monstrous nightmare’s flame though the thick wood.

Most people would leave, but not us. We’re Vikings. We have stubbornness issues.

Yanking the door open, I swiftly run past the burning entrance way and start to make my way towards the forge. Dodging bodies of both Vikings and Dragons alike.

My name is Hiccup. Great name, I know. But it’s not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn’t do that.

 As I ran though Berk villagers would call out things like “What are you doing out here?!” or “Get inside!” Why they’re yelling this at me you ask? Well… Because Berk is currently being raided by our reptilian enemies and compared to everyone on this island, I’m the runt of the entire litter.

Just as I was about to be blasted by a dragon, a large and beefy hand grabbed the back of my brown fur vest that was one of the few things that helped keep my warm with our harsh climate. “Hiccup!” my savior shouted, “What is he doing…? What are you doing out?!” the bearded man commanded still holding my small body in the air with little to no- Actually he exerted no effort as I was held a good two feet of the ground, “Get inside!” Looking back at the tall man I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. His wild flame like hair was accommodated by hulking mass of muscles and a strong head. And when I say that I mean quite literally he has a strong head.

That’s Stoick the Vast, chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon’s head clean off its shoulders. Do I believe it? Yes, I do.

Taking one last glance at Stoick the Vast I saw him grab one of Berk’s large and heavy wagons that was damaged by the dragons and heaved it into the sky. The wagon made contact with a Deadly Nadder causing to struggle with its goal of flying.

When I snapped out of my in awe daze I quickly shook my head and continued on my way towards my station. “Nice of you to join the party!” Gobber, my mentor greeted sardonically, “I thought you’d been carried off!”

“Who, me?” I asked as I grabbed my leather apron and tied it around my twig like waist. “No, come on, I’m way too muscular for their taste. They wouldn’t know what to do with all this.” Gesturing to myself I flexed my arms. That by the way did nothing to change the size of my arms. I was lucky that I had enough strength to pick up the various weapons littered around the forge.

“Well they need toothpicks, don’t they?” Gobber joked.

The meathead with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I’ve been his apprentice since I was little. Well, littler.

Gobber was always joking with me about my size and stature. I was one of the smallest people living on Berk and everyone knew it. But instead of putting me down about it, Gobber would try to lift my spirits in his usual sarcastic but loving way.