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Who: Toothless, and you!
Where: All over Wonderland.
When: Zombie event.
Rating: PG-13ish.
Summary: What's wrong with the shambly Vikings who can't move around much? Why do they make those weird noises?
The Story:

22nd, 23rd, 24th—

He doesn't much understand it, the word that he hears on the communicator. It sounds vaguely familiar, like something he heard someone mention in passing, but the Vikings are a bit of a mystery. Not as much as for some, however, because Toothless can smell them decaying, and he knows what that means. Death.

At first, they ignore him. He isn't sure what to make of that, but eventually they come after a Viking he's protective of and he lunges out — and then the creatures all at once become aware of him, and he isn't safe anymore. He barely was to begin with, maybe, but it was something. Now, he moves quickly. Looking for Vikings who are stranded or seem to be in need of help. It's not as easy as usual, because, once again, he can't breathe fire, and his wings feel wobbly. Unsteady, incapable of flight.

But he still has his teeth, his claws, and the force of a twenty-foot-long dragon to throw things around with. He moves like a shot through the woods and anywhere else he finds, getting out of the prison quickly enough. At first, anyway. His mind is on the Vikings, and where his friends are.

25th—

Something strange happens in the night. By teeth or by the scratch of a nail, Toothless wakes up feeling strange. Hungry, in a way he recognizes from when his Mirror was in his mind. While he'd like nothing more than to tear the leg off of a dragon, or rip into its throat, any Vikings he finds will have to do. Or anything else, for that matter.

The brilliant green of his eyes fades, just a little, giving way into a paler color, his teeth yellowing and his scales losing their keen shimmer. His wings drag alongside him, the Night Fury having lost the ability to control them entirely, and his tongue lolls from his mouth. But he can move quickly in short bursts, should he catch sight of anyone.

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_{[Thank God Georgian winters are mild. He's never visited and probably never will, but the lack of real snow and cold is probably what saves his life, and he's glad for it. He'd never been uncomfortable in the outdoors back home, but home...

Home is a million years in the past and the playing field has changed.

Having made the mistake of leaving the prison, the throng of undead creeping around outside and in the woods keeps him from finding his way back inside; he gets turned around and around until it seems pointless to try and navigate his way back when zombies always seem to block the way.

Sometimes he hears gunshots in the trees. No one in their right mind would trust him with a gun, but he still wishes he'd been smart enough to get one of his own, especially when he can't turn around without seeing a zombie staggering around. Try as he might to be quiet, they seem to hear him every time--or maybe smell him.]}

[The woods are where Toothless feels safest. There's plenty of ground for him to run on, and space for him to maneuver. Plus, places to hide when he needs a nap. That's a bonus. Still, he feels obligated to keep checking other places for Vikings, because most of them seem to be sticking to the man-made sections of the new landscape.

They're not dragon-friendly, and so the Night Fury is forever going between. He certainly catches scent of Adam, even with a dramatically decreased sense of smell, and recalls the frazzled state he'd last seen the Viking in. Maybe it would be good to check on him.

He makes his way through the trees, quiet, and then rumbles when he catches sight of him, ears perking forward.]

_{[Jesus Christ, for the love of fuck--

He starts at the sound, though in retrospect he's not at all sure how he could have missed a creature Toothless' size sneaking up on him. The dragon isn't undead or rushing at him with blind hunger in its eyes, but that doesn't necessarily make him a friend. Foot catching on a fallen branch, Adam comes to a halt, not discriminating with his guarded look.

Zombies, dragons... they're all the damn same, at the end of the day. Different. Possibly dangerous, definitely dangerous in the case of the hordes of undead populating the woods. Monsters, all of them.

And him? He can't catch ever catch a break.]}

You're still here?

_{[At this point, he's half-convinced he's imagined the whole mansion and the simple, easy comforts within, they're so dim in his memory already. All that's left is the ache in his body and the phantom feeling of having teeth sink into his skin.]}

[It's a guarded look that's very much noticed, and Toothless comes to a halt, staring back at Adam and rumbling in the back of his throat. He certainly is here. Unfortunately, perhaps. He'd much rather be in the mansion, or in Berk. This new place? He's not really a fan.

He glances over the Viking's appearance, taking him in and sniffing at his scent. Adam doesn't smell like the decaying things. That's a good thing, definitely, although he seems to be as pale as the last time the Night Fury had seen him.]

_{[Toothless is a scaly black shadow against the backdrop of the trees. He looks larger than before, or maybe that's just Adam's imagination. Maybe he's the one who feels smaller.]}

You...

_{[Adam's thinking along the same lines when he looks Toothless up and down, resting a hand on his thigh. The dragon isn't as awful as the other threats roaming outside the prison. That's saying a lot, considering it's a giant dragon.]}

Why are you still here? Shouldn't you have flown off by now?

_{[Adam's more than ready to sit down and rest properly, but he hasn't been able to, not when being able to run faster and farther is one of the few strengths he has as a living person against the undead. But Toothless... Toothless has wings, for Christ's sake.]}

[Slowly, the Night Fury shakes his head. He can barely move his wings aside from keeping them close to his body, and wiggles them ineffectually with a quiet whine. First his tail fin was taken from him, and now he can't fly at all. It's insulting.]

_{[Is this thing--? But how? How does something like this thing end up looking as helpless as the rest of them? People, sure--people are going to get eaten. There's no running from that fact. People here are the food, the bait, the bowling pins ready to be knocked down. But something like Toothless that's straight out of a fairytale shouldn't look like it's struggling to get by like the people are.

It's almost unfair. Black-and-white is simpler than this. Threats here, threats there, threats everywhere--Adam's had a crash course in not trusting anybody, and he can deal with that. After a day and night of sleeplessness and adrenaline overload, he doesn't want to have to feel bad for some monster just because it hasn't decided to turn on him quite yet.

Cursing under his breath, Adam hazards a glance over his shoulder, breath catching at the sight of a staggering figure in the distance. He grabs the nearest tree, pushing past it for support and starts to move west, cutting a path between zombie and dragon.]}

Go! Go on, go! If they want meat, they'll go after you, too! You better get!

_{[Don't say he didn't try to warn you, dragon. A swarm of them attacking Toothless is a sight he doesn't want to witness.]}

[With a startled look, Toothless turns in the direction of the figure. They're almost comical, the decaying things. If he hadn't seen just how devastating they can be, he would be tempted toward amusement. But he's seen them in swarms, and he knows they spread their disease — whatever it is.

However, this one is just on its own. He pauses to make a note of that, sniffing the wind for the heavy scent that comes with a large number. One? He can handle one. No need for them to run and tire themselves out.

The Night Fury's ears pull back, and with a snarl he lunges at the lone, stumbling zombie. The lack of wings don't make him a less efficient hunter, and with his weight he's easily able to bowl it over onto its back. It does nearly cut at him with one hand, going for one of his large eyes, but he growls at it as he stomps downward on its decaying head.

Crunch.]

_{[He's seen a lizard the size of a car who likes painting and eating fish, and he's seen corpses walk around and tear into anything that flesh on its bones, but never, never has he seen anything like Toothless charging across the ground to attack the zombie. The person's head pops underfoot like a grape.

Adam almost trips on a stump, watching the attack unfold. The dragon had flattened that thing.]}

Jesus...

_{[His voice is an octave higher.]}

[Toothless watches it for a long moment, to ensure that it's not getting back up, before trotting in the direction of Adam. It's not as focused or fast as when he'd charged the zombie, of course, but it might be unnerving to him just the same as he stops nearby and trills quietly in the back of his throat.

Where are you going, Viking?]

_{[Where are you going, dragon? Better not be toward him.

... Which is, of course, exactly what Toothless does.

Although the thing isn't nearly so awful as a body dragging behind it rotting skin and the smell of something dead that's been out in the sun too long, it's a still a thing. And Toothless had just proven that a person Adam's size and weight doesn't stand a chance against that kind of brute force. His back hits a tree trunk, and he sinks against it.

He's not just afraid of living under the same sky with things that aren't human, he's exhausted from being afraid.]}

You don't need to run, I get it.

_{[Toothless is a tank and could kill him in a heartbeat if he wanted to. He gets that.]}

Edited 2013-11-30 07:48 (UTC)

[The Night Fury's eyes shift, concerned, to take in the Vikings' tired state. He's seen that look on Hiccup's face before. It's not a good look. Toothless makes a quiet, uncertain rumble and then trots off into the forest. Maybe the Viking is hungry. He can get food for him! It's easy! Well, not as easy as 'no zombies' easy, but close.

He locates a small stream and hunts fish as well as he can in it, getting a few that are well-sized as far as Vikings are concerned. They won't sustain the dragon. But then again, he didn't catch them for him.

Toothless picks them up and trots back to Adam, using his nose to find the Viking. All in all, he's gone for about ten minutes.]

_{[Just like that, the dragon is gone. Adam takes a deep breathe when he can't hear its footsteps anymore, sucking in air until he feels more steady, until he's moderately sure he's not going to take a step and collapse right where he is.

He needs to get out of here.

Toothless' departure gives Adam a chance to keep moving, and he uses the ten minutes to get as far away as he can. He's not positive what's even keeping him moving anymore, because it's sure as hell not experience in the face of zombies or the unerring will to live. He has the feeling he's just too stupid to throw in the towel when he knows he's beat.

When the sound of four feet crunching along the ground meet his ears again, Adam prays that he's merely imagining it, but...

He stops, hand on a tree, and turns to look. Nope, there the dragon is again.]}

Are you following me?

_{[Is that--? Is it carrying fish?]}

[He certainly is, and he dumps the load of fish in front of Adam with a high trill in the back of his throat. Look! He got you food, Adam! Toothless seems proud of himself, holding his head a little higher. Whenever the Viking gets hungry, or if he's hungry now, he won't have to scramble through the bushes to find anything.]

Don't follow me! What do you think you're doing?

_{[His defensiveness is a brittle thing, shot through with fear. It's not just Toothless, it's everything. It's the last day and a half. It's the last few months. It's the last few centuries in the Cage with two angry archangels.

And now there's a dragon plopping a mouthful of live fish on the ground like a dog with a tennis ball. It looks happy. Adam wavers, ready to sit down and never get back up.]}

What? You can fish? Good for you.

[Toothless stands there for a moment, certain that he's going to be praised. He'd gotten the fish just for Adam, of course, and he doesn't do that for everyone. Not really.

But then he gets the same reaction that Hiccup gives him when he's angry and frustrated, and those green eyes narrow a fraction.

He trills again and nudges his head at the fish.

They're for you, fragile little Viking.]

_{[It happens. He's aware of bending his knees before he sits down, hard, at the base of the tree, but a part of him is ready to give up the ghost. He runs his hands over his face, through a day's worth of sweat and dirt, before looking at the fish again.

Where had this thing gotten? And why? And why is it out here in the forest?

God, what the hell?]}

For me? You shouldn't have. In between running for my life from man-eating corpses, I didn't bring you anything.

_{[At least one of them is still capable of finding food and keeping himself alive.]}

[Toothless regards Adam with a measure of forgiveness. He looks weary to the dragon, and that makes creatures do strange things. The fish are still his, in any case, and the Night Fury gives Adam's leg a friendly little nudge with his snout.

Stay safe, okay, Viking? Maybe he'll find you again, later.

With a sniff to the air, to figure out which way the dead things are, the Night Fury trots off into the forest, like he'd never been there — save for the pile of fish.]

_{[Navigating emotions is hard for him at the best of times, but fear is clear and sharp to him now. Not only are there dead bodies walking around waiting to eat people, but this thing is close to him. Too close.

He holds absolutely still when the dragon nudges his leg, gently, like it's mindful of how breakable he is compared to the other person it'd stepped on, not even daring to breathe. He has too many questions, none an animal can answer. Certainly not a dragon, for Christ's sake.

When Toothless turns tail and walks away, calm as can be, he finally releases a breath. It's some time before he relaxes enough to move.

The fish are still there.]}

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23rd!

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