"Hiccup, what did you do!?"

"Why did you kill it!? You could've just trapped the dragon and moved it somewhere else!"

"You were the first Viking on Berk to care for a dragon, and this is the example you're showing everyone!?"

I tried to tell them they were mistaken. I didn't kill the lead Speed Stinger. It was Toothless, who fled before anyone could see what was going on. But just like every other time when I was scared or under too much pressure, my mouth felt like it was glued shut.

The three Vikings surrounding me were all a little smaller than Gobber. I craned my neck to look at them, but each one was a blur of color. I could pick out what was clothing, what was hair, and what was skin, but besides that, I couldn't make out any features. I didn't even recognize their voices, which just served to further reinforce my futility as Chief. I was supposed to know everyone in Berk by name.

It had to be the fall from the great hall's roof. That was why everything was fuzzy. Something had probably been knocked loose in my head.

"How do you expect to be Chief and keep dragons around when you're only going to kill them?" one of the Vikings shouted. Without giving me a chance to answer, he wheeled around in disgust and strode away.

"Why don't we just give all our dragons to someone who hunts them for sport? I'm sure they could do a better job taking care of them than you," the second Viking said. And just like the first one, he walked away.

I looked toward the third Viking near me but couldn't find him anywhere. Stranger still, the first two left no visible tracks. There was only a light flurry of snow drifting down, which would never cover a grown man's footprints in a few seconds. I blinked several times, making sure I was still awake.

Those Vikings were a hallucination, but their words still echoed throughout my head.

I groaned in effort, pulling myself to a crawling position and found myself face-to-face with the lead Speed Stinger, which looked like it was floating in a pool of blood. Its throat was mangled and spread open for all the world to see, and there was a section about two inches in length where only a muscle or two was securing the dragon's head to its body. The dragon's head was overlapping a couple inches of the back of its neck. On the snow about six inches from the dragon's lower jaw was a blood-covered neck bone. Toothless didn't have to go much further if he had wanted to completely decapitate the dragon.

Beyond the lead Speed Stinger were the other three dragons Toothless had killed. The one closest to me had thick strips of flesh hanging from its chest, its ribs visible against the red snow. Its right arm was severed from its body. Further away was another Speed Stinger with a gaping hole blown into its chest. To their left was the third dragon, its skull partially caved in, its lower jaw hanging sideways from one joint, and one of its eye sockets empty. Each of them was lying in its own crimson bath.

I shivered, forcing myself to look away from the Speed Stingers. I slowly focused on my hands, half-buried in the snow and beginning to turn red, and clenched them, feeling the burn from the cold. Several tears escaped my eyes because of what Toothless did. He murdered these dragons as a statement to the rest of the Speed Stingers. He killed them in cold blood. He ran away after glaring at me like he was going to kill me as well.

I felt like witnessing him kill these dragons and then nearly turn on me erased every bit of magic about him. I'd never see him in the same light again. To me, he wasn't Toothless anymore. He was just a Night Fury. He was just another dragon.

I wondered if I would ever see him again. Would I ever be able to take care of him again? Even if I did find him soon, it didn't mean he was going to be back to his normal self. What really scared me was that Toothless might try to avoid me forever, afraid of risking my safety.

What if I returned home? What if I let Toothless make his own decision on whether to return? I thought for a moment and realized anything could happen to him. He couldn't fly, at least not without me on his back. He wouldn't be able to get away from any starving dragons or other animals. I was pretty sure we had at least some of those around Berk.

I could think of a hundred other things, none of them good, that might happen to him. Even though he was "just another dragon," I still felt the need to make sure he was safe. It didn't seem right to let him fend for himself after taking care of him for so long. Toothless was still my dragon, no matter what he did.

With that, I made up my mind and painstakingly stood. My hips were sore, and my left knee felt like it was on fire. I looked down and saw my peg was still intact.

I pulled out the snow plate I had in my satchel. Or more accurately, half of it. I closed my eyes in defeat and dropped the now-useless chunk of iron into the snow near my peg. I unhooked the satchel from my belt and heard it land in the snow as well.

I glanced west and noticed the sun was in that direction, almost touching the horizon. There was maybe an hour before sunset, which meant I only had one, maybe two, hours before the air turned lethally cold.

You'll make a "good" Chief, Hiccup, I thought sarcastically.

I took one last look at the Speed Stinger and wondered what part of me decided that tying the rope around my ankle was a viable idea. There was nothing else that could have happened.

Somebody else should be Chief after my dad. Maybe I should just be a blacksmith, like Gobber. But not Chief. The last few days have got to be proof to anyone that I can't keep a village safe.

A snow flurry was still falling from the grey sky overhead, so I decided now was just as good of a time as any to look for Toothless. Maybe I'd get lucky and find him. But considering the sheer number of failed ideas I had in the last few days, I knew my luck probably wasn't going to be favorable.

I started walking toward the plaza, hoping I could find Toothless' footprints and follow them. I knew he fled in this direction, and my guess was he ran to the forest so he could hide.

After about ten painful steps that seemed to take forever, a snag on my right shin abruptly stopped me. The bait rope was still tied to my ankle. Looking back, I saw the lead Speed Stinger was lying across the rope. The fish it wanted so badly was nearly shredded to pieces inches away from the dragon's snout, like it was a final, silent insult.

Bending down slowly, I tried to untie the rope, but my hands were too cold to show any dexterity. I pulled the knife I had stowed in my belt out and cut through the rope. Without looking, I dropped the knife in the snow by my peg and started walking again.

After several more steps, I found Toothless' footprints leading in a straight line toward the forest. He could have been anywhere on Berk, but I committed to my plan anyway.

I began trudging east, toward the forest. My shadow fell directly on Toothless' tracks, so I focused about eight feet in front of me, keeping my eyes there. I continued half-walking, half-limping because of my left leg. Not only was it in excruciating pain, the snow also made walking difficult.

After what seemed like a week, I reached the edge of the forest. The snow-covered firs were towering over me, making the forest seem like an impenetrable wall, but I continued walking.

Toothless' tracks were generally easy to find when I was in the village. In the forest, the shadows made tracking him almost impossible.

During the summer, light filtered quite easily through the trees. During the winter, though, the snow that had accumulated on the trees limited what I could see. Those shadows were playing tricks on my eyes, hiding gentle slopes and masking any footprints.

I wandered forward, walking in a haze of thoughts, emotions, and cold. 

My hair briefly tangled with a branch, but I continued walking, unmindful of the small pile of snow that had built up around this tree. That is, until I turned around to check the western horizon. Predictably, it was blocked by the trees around me.

Before I could return my empty gaze forward, the fir tree I had just brushed under caught my attention. It was the only tree around without a thorough snow dusting. The only explanation was that something had collided with it.

I crouched, trying to discern any footprints that Toothless might have made. I saw one slightly rounded depression with what looked like four vicious claw marks pointing forward.

I hope this is actually useful, I thought.

I broke off a branch from the tree I passed under and stuck it vertically in the ground, like a beacon. In case I walked in a circle, I would know which direction to go. I stripped several leafy twigs from the branch and laid them end-to-end pointing in the direction I thought Toothless was heading.

I continued trudging forward.

Time and distance seemed to stretch to infinity in the forest. After a while, I began to tire. It was a lot of work having to lift my left leg about a foot higher than my right every other step. I didn't even think about reloading my peg with a new snow plate from the armory when I had the chance. I was so focused on moving forward that I had forgotten why I had walked into the forest.

I looked back, trying to see the village. There were only trees but no village. The air was getting colder too.

What's the point? I wondered.

There was a brief pause in my thoughts, as if the effort of thinking would soon become too much for me to handle.

What am I doing here?

I stopped and looked around for a moment, unable to keep from shivering. I sighed, a plume of steam coming from my mouth and turned around.

I started trudging again, hoping I was heading in the right direction. I tried following my tracks, but there was almost no light left. I didn't have a torch or lantern with me, and even if I did, there was no fire source nearby.

In the low light, everything looked the same. There were no features on the ground because everything was covered by snow. There were some gentle slopes here and there, but I couldn't find any boulders or paths I had carved out over the years to tell me where I was. Every tree looked exactly the same. I sighed, trying to feel my tracks using my right foot and peg.

After about ten more steps, my peg got stuck in something. I couldn't tell what it was. I didn't have the energy to find out or even look.

I mindlessly grabbed onto the peg and yanked. The first try brought my peg up slightly, so I pulled again. This time, my peg nearly shot out of the ground, nearly throwing me to my right. I couldn't regain my balance and ended up toppling onto my right side.

Panting, I tried to stand, knowing I didn't have much time before the air became too cold. But I had no energy left. I couldn't get back up.

I groaned in dejected agony, but I knew nobody would hear me. Nothing was going to care. I only hoped a death from hypothermia would be painless as everything faded into black.