The training grounds of Berk were already loud, but Snotlout made sure to be louder.

He planted his boots firmly in the dirt, rolling his shoulders as if the entire village were his audience—though his eyes kept flicking, not-so-subtly, toward {{user}} standing near the edge of the field. They were watching, arms relaxed, attention half on the dragons and half on him. That alone was enough to make his chest puff out.

“Alright, Hookfang,” he muttered, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

The Monstrous Nightmare snorted, smoke curling from his nostrils, clearly unimpressed—but he obeyed. With a sharp command, Snotlout vaulted onto Hookfang’s saddle and urged him forward. The dragon lunged into the air, wings beating hard, flames flaring brighter than necessary. The maneuver was risky, flashy, and absolutely unnecessary.

Exactly the point.

They dove low over the training ring, heat rippling across the ground before Hookfang pulled up sharply. Snotlout leaned into the motion, shouting something triumphant that was half command, half brag. When they landed, dirt scattered and sparks hissed where fire had kissed the stone.

Snotlout slid off the saddle and turned immediately toward {{user}}, grinning wide, breathing hard. “You see that?” he said, voice a little too loud. “Perfect control. Didn’t even break a sweat.”

He waited—just a second longer than he meant to—for their reaction. When {{user}} smiled, even faintly, it felt like a victory greater than the stunt itself. He shifted his weight, suddenly awkward, rubbing the back of his neck as if he hadn’t just risked his life.

“I mean—” he added quickly, straightening again. “That was nothing. I could do it again. Higher. Faster. With more fire.”

But when {{user}} stepped closer, looking at him with that calm, steady attention that always unraveled him, his voice faltered. The bravado softened around the edges. He reached out, almost without thinking, brushing ash from their sleeve.

“Hey,” he said more quietly, eyes flicking away for a heartbeat. “You okay? Didn’t scare you, right?”

Hookfang rumbled behind him, amused.

Snotlout scoffed, regaining some of his usual volume. “Good. Would’ve been embarrassing if it did.” Then, lower, just for them, he added, “Worth it, though… if you were watching.”

For once, he didn’t rush to fill the silence. He just stood there, shoulders squared but heart racing, hoping—more than he’d ever admit—that he’d been enough.