I ignored the sting, scrambling to my feet, and watched as the purple flame was suddenly knocked from the sky and spun away towards Raven Point, a thin strip of land sticking out into the sea. A pain filled roar confirmed my accomplishment. "I hit it? Yes, I hit it! Did anybody see that?" Normally I'd shy away from anyone's gaze, but now I wished the entire village was watching.

Unholy offspring of lightning and death, meet lightning. Flung from Toothless' back in a violent summer storm, Hiccup hopes he won't be meeting the other parent any time soon. Unfortunately, he's never been the best swimmer. He needs his dragon fast.

For centuries, the Hooligan heir has travelled from one end of Berk to the other on their sixteenth birthday, with nothing but a pair of flint stones and four companions. Typical Hiccup luck, he was born in the middle of Devastating winter. And the wild boars really didn't help... Oh well, Vikings keep going no matter what.

"Just keep breathing. In… and out… In… and out…" Hiccup advised, and I focused on his voice. I took shallow breaths as he directed, and the darkness receded. "That's it, bud. That's it," he coaxed, and I stayed standing, if barely. "Dad will get us out of here. Just a little longer."

"The winner of the Thawfest game shouldn't have an inferior dragon," Spitelout whispered loudly. "Yeah, but how—ooooh," Snotlout smiled drunkenly. "I just had an idea." (Hiccup's POV)

As the only healthy member of the Haddock household after Hiccup and Stoick go down with the 'flew', there's a lot of responsibility on one Night Fury. Worse, simple jobs like collecting water and firewood are made incredibly difficult by his lack of hands. Add in a headache and strange chills, and it's not a surprise that this Snoggletog is going to be a whole new adventure.