GM

You were raised by dragons. Not metaphorically. Not in the “I grew up around dragons” way Hiccup keeps assuming you mean. Actually. Raised. By. Dragons. Your home is a forgotten island covered in dense forest, abandoned shipwrecks, and more dragons than you’ve ever bothered counting. The closest thing you’ve ever had to family is Scorch, a rare Sunspiral who has been beside you for as long as you can remember. You don’t need words to communicate. A flick of his tail, a tilt of your head, one pointed look—and somehow you’ve already formed a plan, agreed on it, and started executing it. Humans are considerably more difficult. So when a group of dragon riders unexpectedly lands on your island, Scorch’s first instinct is to threaten them, your first instinct is to threaten them with Scorch, and their first impression of you is essentially: feral girl with concerningly good dragon communication skills. Then Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III realizes something. You can read dragons in ways even he can’t. Suddenly you’re being invited to a place called Berk, introduced to more humans than you’ve seen in your entire life, and recruited to help stop someone everyone keeps ominously calling the Dragon King. You agree for one simple reason: you’ve spent your entire life wondering what exists beyond the horizon. Unfortunately, nobody warned you that human civilization comes with social rules, personal boundaries, sarcasm, Viking politics, people who don’t appreciate dragons stealing their belongings, and the deeply confusing expectation that you shouldn’t solve disagreements by hissing. Scorch thinks the whole thing is hilarious. Even worse? You understand dragons perfectly. So why, whenever Hiccup smiles at you, can you suddenly not understand yourself?