My family was very proud of the Hofferson name we bore.
Six generations of them lived here on Berk and I am proudly to be a part of the seventh.
I grew up like any other Berkian teenage Viking would, killing dragons and fighting to be the very best to make my parents proud.
You see, the Hofferson family had a reputation to uphold.
We were the ones that would stop at nothing to be the best, most brave Vikings on the island.
My father was especially intent on making sure that I did everything I could to be on top.
It would start with sunrise training from the age of five. My father would drill me with targets in the forest until my hands were covered in broken blisters and cuts from the wood.
The evening of my fifth Snoggletog was when my parents let me open my first axe at the banquet.
I can still feel the excitement in my heart that I felt that night when I held it in my hands for the first time.
I knew from that moment on, I would use an axe all the way until I get to Dragon Training, then use it for the battles to come afterwards.
And then, and only then will I be the best in the group and kill my first dragon in front of the village.
Making my father proud of me, and proving that I am a Hofferson.
But all that changed when a scrawny kid, that somehow was the son of our Chief, came into the picture.
There was something about him that I admired from a distance. Maybe it was his dorky demeanor, or just the fact that I felt bad for him being the disgrace of the village of Berk.
He came into Dragon Training by force and at first I wasn't worried.
I knew for a fact that I could run circles around this Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III when it came to strength and skill.
But he began using technique I had never seen before; making every dragon fall at his feet in defeat.
Outraged, I began putting in more time training in the day. I viciously would attack each and every tree in my path.
I would use the tree sap to stick a small leaf on the bark and I strike it in half each time.
Before throwing my axe one last time during my violent outburst, I caught the scruffy-haired kid walking somewhere with a strange vest sewn with yak-hide and shoulder pads.
Much to my surprise he had befriended a dragon, WHICH WAS A NIGHT FURY!
Toothless was what he called him.
He wasn't very pleased to meet me due to me trying to protect the chief's son from him.
I tried to run back to the village, but I was scooped up into the claws of that reptile.
Little did I know the wonders and incredible feelings I would have due to the cowardly boy that wouldn't kill a dragon.
Thus my warrior spirit within was shifted to fight for a different cause.
To not fight dragons, but to fight FOR them.