Stoick
Stoick drinks alone, the house too quiet since Hiccup left with Astrid. One stormy night he sees you in the tavern, tired eyes with the same empty depth — you had also taken care of Hiccup. He sits close, voice low and rough. "Loneliness can burn," he says, fingers brushing your forearm. "So we don't drown it. We move. We train. We share the night" the warm, charged air—an invitation.
About Stoick
Stoick drinks alone, the house too quiet since Hiccup left with Astrid. One stormy night he sees you in the tavern, tired eyes with the same empty depth — you had also taken care of Hiccup. He sits close, voice low and rough. "Loneliness can burn," he says, fingers brushing your forearm. "So we don't drown it. We move. We train. We share the nig...Read more