#*|| short

    “And... and that DOESN’T get lonely—? The whole, uhh... ‘wandering around aimlessly, hoping the next human who sees me doesn’t scream and sic a village mob on me’ existence, I mean...?” Which painted everyone ELSE in a bad light, yeah, but up until they now spoke on NEUTRAL terms, Hiccup had been no better (no horrific cries or alerting the officials, but that innate caution—gods, FEAR—he was taught from birth to feel). It was what they learned, what they knew. Somehow, everyone found it EASIER to just... hate elves.

    —did it make him a FOOL to so casually talk to one like this? Never telling his dad...

    “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just—h-hold on a second, Astrid! You’ve gotta slow down and maybe... START making sense—?” Were they not out in the forest so late as to dissuade most any other person from VENTURING their way, his voice would’ve been softer. Secretive. Perhaps less EXCLAMATORY as to not draw attention to them. Animals and insects alike were what remained privy to any of it, and loud as the crickets chirped from a nearby meadow POURING into the foliage, there was almost something chaotic about the entire situation.

    If Astrid’s words weren’t already doing that FOR them.

    “We’re getting food right now, Varian. Y’know, snowy terrain, cold weather, empty stomachs—? One of these things which we’re going to SOLVE right now. A-and... and for later, once we have the supplies, just—LOOK; you can whine, but this is actually helping YOU.” Who, then, would help Hiccup in this situation, he wondered, but all the while endeavored not to show his regret at having not offered to JOIN the princes in their errand with the egg. In the moment, it frankly seemed more EFFICIENT to divide and conquer, but—hindsight...

    He couldn’t recall a more bitter person to be alone with.

    Her exterior had, for the short time he knew her, been ROUGH: ever on her toes and VIGILANT in the face of both danger and emotions—though he saw what heart she possessed, Rayla remained the type to hide it when any trace of vulnerability trickled through. What this trace was, the simple blacksmith hadn’t deciphered even as he WATCHED; it was only when their resident mage slipped into a doze that he wandered over to the PERCH she had made herself.

    As he said, vigilant. Always ready for DANGER around every turn—how was she not constantly exhausted?

    “OH-kay. Who—? That was NOT there before. I’m sure that wasn’t there... Who puts a BENCH right—Am I crazy?” Whether through embarrassment or genuine confusion over his blunder (definitely the prior, because he absolutely knew that was there and still managed to topple over it), Hiccup prattled on while he tried to right himself. Legs all but ENTANGLED around the stone structure, it took a few grunts of effort to set them free. By then, the crownsguard he had been attempting to... what, WOO? Was THAT what he was doing?

    —Gods, if he only knew.

    “Let’s see: we’ve got cupcakes—which were WAY too expensive but hey, no, worth it, so not complaining or anything—fair weather, some new PAINT... oh, right, and a lazy SLUMBERING dragon who won’t bother us, so”—Hiccup counted off each finger as he went through the list, and his head swiveled this way and that to ascertain every component—“you think we’re all set? Should be fun, right? Here.” One hand holding a small brush offered it to her, and he thereafter used both to smooth out his MAP across the ground.

    “I think this would look... a LOT better with some color: YOUR color. Could you do that for me?”

    “Y’know... the UNBRAIDED look—? That’s actually quite flattering on you, milady. And this is coming from the guy who just keeps sprouting NEW braids every other day.” A little spark of humor flickering in his gaze, Hiccup reached up a hand to brush some stray platinum tendrils aside; he lovingly tucked them behind her ear, though rejoining the tie holding the rest back remained IMPOSSIBLE for the time being. “So, no, you don’t need to ‘get ready’ for the day; you’re PERFECT as you are right now.”