Just when he was beginning to think she was incapable of making a decision she pointed out an island as it appeared ahead of them and turning his head he took in the landscape. It was an island he knew to have housed timberjacks in the past but they had been gone for a VERY long time, longer than he had been alive and in their stead was a healthy forest of plush trees. When he last visited he’d only crossed paths with terrors but given the way his scales crawled he was pretty sure their was some changewings living in the brush- their skill of camouflage even better than that of his mother’s pure bred race (if only because they could take on a variety of shades without the aid of light). The short time he spent on the island none had bothered him but then he had only walked the outer edges of the forest- the foliage too thick to enter by flight and his patience to thin to go by foot.

The chief of Berk had suggested this island was under the control of a queen but if it was in did not seem to be a maleficent one. Blizzard circled around- looking for a safe place to land and found one on the island’s tail: a chain of large rocks the bent outward from the east end, building a sort of ’natural pier’. He folded his wings snug against his sides and trotted to the narrow beach before letting Ava off. In the process of doing this though he idled and stared down into the clear water because there seemed to be a current coming from beneath the island. Perhaps there was an underwater cave or a series of them carved into this earth. He snapped at a fish with a blue tailfin but it took off to fast and he had immediately abandoned the task. It wasn’t enough to hold his attention but the massive trees crowding the shore managed to.

He hopped onto the huge roots- almost everyone was bent up in a massive arch, creating open doorways that went nowhere. Many draped in moss and a few occupied by colorful birds as they warmed their wings. Late to migration but then when Blizzard sprung onto their perch and they scattered beneath the roots he realized they must not be capable of flight. Scampering meat sacks. Lucky for them he wasn’t all that hungry right then but that didn’t mean he didn’t get a kick from chasing them about the crowded beach with excited barks at least until a flock of terrors decided to show up. Frying the frazzled birds and scoffing them up.

Needless to say he dealt with them accordingly- shooting a plasma blast into their ranks and blasting the lot of them in opposite directions, leaving them disoriented as they scrambled upright.