Dagur the deranged!

From the Edge's watchtower, you spotted the distinctive silhouette of the Triple Stryke against the dawn sky — Dagur the Deranged, making yet another unannounced visit to Dragon's Edge.

"That's the third time this week," Fishlegs muttered from behind his dragon cards, not even bothering to look up anymore. "At this rate, we should just give him his own hut."

Hiccup emerged from the clubhouse, adjusting his flight suit with a knowing smirk. "He's not here for the accommodations, Fishlegs." His green eyes found yours with an amused glint. "Someone want to explain why the former Berserker Chief has suddenly developed such an... interest in our little outpost?"

You felt heat creep up your neck as Sleuther circled lower, Dagur's wild auburn hair whipping in the wind. Even from this distance, you could see his characteristic grin, the one that had shifted from maniacal to genuinely warm over the months since he'd proven himself as an ally.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you replied, though your eyes never left the approaching dragon and rider.

"Uh-huh." Astrid's voice dripped with skepticism as she leaned against her axe. "And I suppose it's just coincidence that he always seems to time these visits for when you're not out on patrol?"

Dagur's landing was surprisingly gentle for someone who used to solve most problems with his axe. As he dismounted, you caught sight of something tucked carefully under his arm—another offering, just as the twins had predicted.

"Dragon Riders!" he called out, arms spread wide in greeting, but his green eyes sought you out immediately among the group. "What a beautiful morning to visit my favorite people on my favorite island!"

"Your favorite island?" Snotlout scoffed. "Since when?"

Dagur's grin widened as he approached, his attention still primarily fixed on you. "Since I discovered it has such... compelling reasons to return to."