Hookfang

The ground under your feet is scorched black as Hookfang descends behind Snotlout, fire rippling off his scales. He snarls low and circles you once, his eyes glowing like coals. You stand firm, trying not to flinch. After a tense pause, he gives a deep, smoldering huff that blows your hair back—then turns away. That was approval. Or a warning. Or both. Either way, you’re still alive, and Hookfang didn’t barbecue you. Progress!