"I can feel it: today is our lucky day!" Eret, the leader of the dragon hunters, exclaimed excitedly as he finished disembarking from the ship onto the newly discovered island.

"Are you sure.. there are dragons here?" one of the men asked, sounding unconvinced by Eret’s words. "We’ve been going from island to island for hours without catching a single dragon. Dontcha think it’s time to maybe head back and tell Drago we didn't find any?"

Eret felt a chill run down his spine at the mention of that name, but he quickly composed himself, ready to retort against the stupidity of such a suicidal idea, a sound drifted out from the forest.

Everyone froze instantly; it was a growl (or perhaps something akin to a scream) unlike anything they had ever heard before.

Eret didn't care; if it was a new type of dragon, it might please Drago even more. So, while his men were still debating whether it had been a dragon or merely some strange forest beast, Eret was already venturing into the woods, sword drawn, with an arrogant smirk, he moved cautiously, scanning the forest shadows to locate the creature that had made the sound.

"Come on... you can't hide for long." The sound of snapping branches behind him made Eret’s smile widen; the hunter turned toward the noise, readying his sword to take down the dragon.

Drago always wanted the dragons alive, but Eret wasn't foolish enough to enter the woods with a potential dragon on the loose unarmed. As he drew closer to the sound amidst the tree shadows, he felt the strange sensation of a piercing gaze watching him. Eret stared back into the forest, searching for the source of that feeling, until he finally spotted something glinting in the shadows. The moment their eyes met, the hunter’s smug smile vanished, replaced by a look of confused bewilderment as he lowered his sword, unable to believe what he was seeing. "What-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the "dragon" knocked him to the ground in a surprise attack.

The creature–actually a man.–had pounced on Eret like a wild animal and was now straddling him, snarling right in his face while pinning him down with his body weight. All Eret could do was blink, trying to make sense of the situation; the strange man above him kept staring down with blindingly blue eyes, baring his teeth mere inches from Eret’s face. In that position, the hunter could feel the other man’s breath against his skin, and their noses brushed together a few times.

Eret struggled with all his might to break free from the stranger's weight; once he finally managed to shove the man off, he scrambled to his feet, bracing for a fight. After all, what the hell was another man doing in the woods, attacking him for absolutely no reason?

Eret then turned his attention to the stranger: a mass of hair covered nearly half his face, and his clothes looked improvised or stolen from some merchant, none of the garments seemed to go together, as if each had been taken from a different person. His attire was torn in several places, but what likely left Eret most confused and intrigued was the fact that the man was kneeling on the ground with his hands pressed against the earth, a posture that made it seem as though Eret were facing a small dragon rather than another human being.

It was bizarre; the stranger stared at Eret without saying a word, emitting only snarls and grunts. Eret had no idea what was happening, nor did he know why he was so curious about the strange little man before him.

"What the hell are you?" Eret started to ask, stepping toward the young man again, but after just one step, the man bared his teeth and let out an even louder growl (if that were even possible) His eyes shifted from Eret to the sword in his hand; it took the hunter a moment to grasp the meaning, but he eventually realized and slowly dropped the weapon to the ground. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I didn't come here to fight, whatever kind of person you might be, okay?" Eret waited in silence for a response, but there was nothing… just absolute silence, devoid of the growls and noises from before. After getting no reply, Eret gave it some thought and decided to test a theory. "Do you happen to understand what I'm saying?" Once again, there was no verbal answer, but he did receive a nod.

"Right, look, I don't have time to deal with whatever this shit is; I've got a real dragon to ca’ch." Eret turned to grab the sword he’d left on the ground, only to find it simply gone. "What the hell!?" He barely had time to react before a growl..

A real dragon's growl sounded right behind him.

The last thing he saw before the tail of a Monstrous Nightmare slammed him into a tree, knocking him unconscious on impact. was the stranger standing before him again, dragon at his side; then, Eret’s eyes rolled back as the throbbing pain in his back and head took over.

"Why take so long to kill him?" Hookfang growled at his little brother, looking with utter disdain at the human he had just flung against the tree.

Snotlout shouted back, but then his gaze shifted to the hunter's unconscious form, and he felt something strange in his chest. He approached slowly, ignoring Hookfang’s clear disapproval.

The dragon didn't like the idea and wanted his brother to keep a safer distance from the potential threat. Snotlout paid little heed and decided to investigate who Eret was. While absentmindedly fiddling with the layers of hide, which didn't seem to belong to Eret himself, but rather to another creature. Snotlout’s fingers brushed against an exposed patch of Eret’s chest. Eret let out a low grunt at the sudden touch but remained unconscious.

Driven by curiosity, Snotlout let his fingers touch the skin again; it was different from the scales his nest-mates had. He noticed something even stranger: a mark on the hunter’s skin, a mark he was certain he had seen before on other dragons, dead dragons. It appeared to be a fresh scar; much of the skin was still a vivid red, and it looked painful.

When Snotlout lightly touched the mark on the man (who had previously only been muttering but now wore a pained expression with tense shoulders) he pulled his fingers away as if burned by fire. Snotlout leaned in again, this time until his nose brushed against the unconscious man's cheek; he sniffed, trying to detect anything amiss, but all he could smell was the strong scent of sea salt, though there was something else mixed in, something Snotlout couldn't quite decipher. He would have continued his investigation if not for Hookfang, who was rapidly losing patience with his little brother’s curiosity (which rivaled that of a meddlesome Terrible Terror hatchling) Snotlout was about to complain about Hookfang’s impatience when the sound of footsteps echoed from across the forest, followed by the arrival of voices, so many voices that Snotlout scrambled back into a defensive stance, his hands and fingernails digging into the grass. Hookfang went on alert too, but he reacted faster than Snotlout; without hesitation or gentleness, he grabbed his brother’s small body with his hind legs and took off into the treetops, staying out of sight of any intruders in the woods. Snotlout thrashed and snarled curses at the Monstrous Nightmare, who simply snorted smoke in his face, clearly not caring one bit about his complaints.