How to Protect Your Dragon

Grimmel, the Hunter

Me: "WhAtS yOuR nAme?"

Grimmel: "what?!"

Me: "wHAT IS YOUR NAME?!"

Grimmel: "Grimmel!"

Me: "F*** YOU GRIMMEL!"

...

Third Person P.O.V

The sea was dark, and hundreds of trapper ships were all docked on an island. The air was foggy, the sun making it glow an eerie yellow.

A man stands inside of a small winged structure being carried by four dragons tied by chains. The dragons make odd clicking sounds as they land, setting the man down with growls.

...

"Archers!" A guard yells, his men taking aim from ontop a watch tower.

...

The man walks forward, the dragons following closely behind with low hisses.

...

"Deathgrippers..." One of the men mumble from above, watching the dragons and recognizing the man now.

...

The man stops, smirking at the sound of men clamoring and dragons roaring ahead.

A Gronckle struggles in its binds, a large blue and purple dragon snarling viciously as he tries to break the chains. A Nadder races off, flying before being shot down by a net.

A baby Nadder whines in fear at the sight of the Deathgrippers, curling into a ball.

A group of guards look over a large map, miniature boats laying on the side.

"The dragon riders attacked us here, off the eastern strait," a guard says, pushing their boat forward.

Another guard takes a boat, imitating an explosion as he collides it with their boat.

"Ragnar!" A woman scolds.

"Um... Sorry."

"My dear warlords!" A voice greets, making them gasp and turn. "How go your plans to conquer the world?"

He removes his hood, his platinum blond hair messy for a moment before he fixes it.

Ragnar lets out a laugh, playfully swinging his fists, "Grimmel! My old friend. Thank you for coming--"

As he goes to hug Grimmel a Deathgripper tackles him, snarling as he nervously laughs.

"A year since Drago's defeat, and no further along with your dragon army, I see," Grimmel nods, rolling his eyes with a smirk as he approaches the map.

"You can thank the young Chief of Berk and his partner for that," a woman replies in disgust.

"Stoick's boy?" Grimmel questions, pausing. "And if I'm not mistaken, his... 'Partner', as you put it, is (F/N)'s, yes?"

Ragnar struggles under the Deathgripper, groaning in disgust at the saliva dripping from its mouth.

"They and their peace-loving dragon riders raid our ships," Ragnar tries to hold the dragon back. "And steal our dragons."

"Mmm," Grimmel turns, looking at the woman. "They do sound like nuisances." He agrees before shaking his head. "But I'm in the business of killing dragons, not retrieving them."

"But Grimmel!" Ragnar scrambles out from under the dragon, panting heavily as he rushes after him.

"That idiot boy and girl have done all of the work for you gathering the dragons in one place," Grimmel informs, walking last struggling dragons. "Why bother me?"