giant dragon butt in his face upon entering. Plunking his helmet on to his head, he approached the Monstrous Nightmare and put a hand on the giant snout. "What do you say, Hookfang? Flight around Berk then the great hall for fish and breakfast?"

Hookfang roared loudly in approval and retracted his horned head. There was something Snotlout and Hookfang shared - they didn't let on just how much they got along when people were watching. The two were both stubborn and proud… Hookfang had no qualms with occasionally lighting Snotlout on fire or throwing him from the saddle, and the young Viking would boss his dragon around on a daily basis, but with no one watching and in the privacy of the Jorgenson home, the two didn't hidetheir easy contentment with each other. They couldn't have people think they were going soft, after all. Downstairs, his father Spitelout was attempting to pour a glass of mead from the cask but kept getting slapped with Hookfang's wagging tail fins.

"Hey Dad! Where's Mom?" Snotlout said nonchalantly, then winced a bit at his father's annoyed gaze. "Oh, right… sorry, Hookfang was begging to come inside, so."

Hookfang snorted saucily as if to say 'I don't beg.'

"Ye mother is at market," Spitelout just sighed in exasperation and stepped over the dragon's tail to drink his mead at the table. His son was just out the door when he raised a hand. "Just a second, boyo."

Snotlout paused as Hookfang awkwardly twisted his body to squeeze out of the door. The tone