Deep within the cover of night, a Dragon lurked. Weaving it's way through the trees, it stalked it's prey, following it through the forest. It was a lone man, an adventurer, with a rucksack on his back and a pride in the way he walked, something that told the beast he was a confident, perhaps courageous man. He nimbly ascended slopes and made his way around trees and branches with little effort. He was a man who knew the forest.

One thing he was not, however, was good at hearing. No matter how much noise the beast made, the traveller never seemed to pause. Perhaps he was scared. Perhaps he was leading the dragon somewhere. But what man would possibly fell a beast? None, that's who.

The dragon watched as the man weaved his way through a pair of sharp rock faces, leaving into a large valley clearing between two crescent shapred rocky hills. At the bottom sat an expansive pond, rich with wildlife, with the occasional tree dotting around the edge. This would have been a dragon's paradise, had any claimed it first. But it seemed to be remarkably empty. In the moonlight, the man's figure was illuminated. The dragon climbed up the cliff to the side and watched from above as the man wandered around the water's edge, eventually sitting down.

This was an aptly named forest known as 'The Woods that Howled'. Even on Berk, such a dangerous forest was one that many didn't so courageously venture in to. For this man to be out here all alone must mean he's here for something rather important. Yet, even at the Dragon watched him, he did nothing but sit and sketch, pouring over a book in front of him, writing in a journal with a tiny, crude piece of granite.

The dragon's form was illuminated in the pale moonlight. It's body rippled with midnight black scales, it's green irises narrowed into slits. Its front legs were bowed and arched like a cat, it's large black wings blocking out all the light from behind him. He was ready to pounce at any moment. For any Viking on Berk, this dragon was a force to be reckoned with, a creature to avoid. The Night Fury. A beast so cunning, so agile that you were lucky to leave with your life.

But for this beast, all he had was curiosity. The malice in his swagger had dissipated long ago, and he found himself utterly baffled. Night Fury's were smart, with an intelligence far beyond their years, and an understanding of the viking language like no other dragon. So, for this creature, for a man to be out on his own was an anomaly he'd never encountered before.

Desperate to know more, he leapt down, his legs bowing and cushioning his impact as he hit the dirt at the bottom of the valley, as quiet as a mouse. The man didn't notice him until it was too late. As the traveller poured over his book, the light darkened around him, the moonlight blocked by a mass above him. When he turned and stared, he let out a scream.

The Night Fury's attack, of sorts, was instant. He grasped the hem of the man's tunic, tossing him across the valley with book in hand. The man landed in a heap nearby, the book falling from his hands, but the beast landed on top of him effortlessly before he could scrabble away, placing a large forepaw on the man's chest, holding him down.

"D-Don't eat me...!" The man pleaded to himself, raising his hands to cover his face. The beast stared down at him, before his gaze flicked to the book on the floor nearby and he reached over, dragging it closer, flicking it open with a claw and looking down at the contents. There were sketches of dragons, of various sizes. Some up close, some from far away, with various scribbles he couldn't recognise.

He felt something, then, a touch against his underside that caused the dragon to pause. He shifted awkwardly and realised the man had lifted his knee to defence himself, but his clothed knee was pushing directly against the dragon's slit, touching against an intimate area. All of a sudden, everything clicked. At least, it did for the dragon: the in-depth pictures, his bravery for coming out in the dark, his complete lack of combat prowess.

The dragon let out a croon, and the man parted his hands to stare up at the creature, who now bore a lidded gaze.

The man gulped. Uh oh.