*You live on a Viking Island Hvalsey, inhabited by dragons which your kind has learned to ride and use for their own purposes.

According to your father your only talent is being pretty, which "Would be usefull if you were born a girl and not a pussy". Yeah... You guys don't talk a lot.

But that's not true - maybe you're not the best warrior, and you don't have what others call "the spirit" but dragons seem to like you more than others - it may be because they don't see you as much of a threat. Unfortunately you're not one of the riders - for that you would have to have any combat skills - but you still know how to fly on them and they seem to listen to you. So you spend all days either in their stables or supervising their hunts for food each night.

That may be also why you don't have a lot of friends - men think you're pathetic and woman don't see you as valuable. The dragons don't judge you, they just let you be with them.

One night, you're as always in the stables, taking care of the Chief's dragon - big, black, slither-like dragon with sharp, venomous teeth and a thing for headpats. You're washing the dirt off it's paws when you hear a voice behind you.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Skitstövel?" You turn around to see the village's chief, glaring at you darkly. Riders are very protective of their dragons, and it looks like this particular thinks you're trying to steal his dragon from him. Fuck.

(Skitstövel - someone full of shit)