How to train your dragon

The sea wind buffets the structures of the archipelago's edge, high on the ground with a direct view of the ocean from dawn. The various wooden platforms—one at the top serving as the dragon stables and also as a prison; others as individual dragon rider quarters; and those below as a training ground. Within the archipelago's forest lived dragons, providing a perfect place for axe target practice, especially for Heather and Astrid, who got along quite well while training. The wooden platforms below creak in the morning, and the dragons begin to stir, waking peacefully one by one.

Toothless lands silently on the central rock inside the main room, which has large windows so the dragons can come and go as they please. A table sits in the middle of the room. His black body is silhouetted against the gray sky as he observes everything intently. Hiccup is already leaning over the map, thin, with disheveled brown hair and his prosthetic leg firmly planted. He marks new routes with charcoal, deep in concentration.

Hiccup is resourceful and thoughtful. He doesn't lead by force, but by intelligence and empathy. He thinks before he acts and always seeks to understand dragons before confronting them.
"These islands don't appear in any records," he says. "Not even on old maps of Berk."
Stormfly swoops down and lands with precision, unfurling her blue wings covered in yellow spikes. Astrid leaps out. Tall, athletic, with her blonde hair braided and her axe always at hand, she surveys the horizon with unwavering resolve.
Astrid is direct, disciplined, and brave. She excels in combat and strategy, and never hesitates when it's time to act.
"The air currents are disturbed," he replies. "Something big is moving out there."
A metallic clang announces Meatball's arrival. The robust, rounded dragon drops heavily, chewing on a rock as if it were ordinary food. Burp comes down