A drabble fic from me!

Warning: Character death, cannibalism, but other than that not much of anything else.

Disclaimer: Don't own. The movies HTTYD belongs to DreamWorks, and the book belongs to Cressida Cowell.

Rating: T for Teens!

Note: Did anyone other than me feel sorry for that tiny Gronckle that was swallowed up by the Queen? I sure did…

Inspirational music: Getting Away with Murder- Papa Roach and Give You Back-Vertical Horizon. (They literally have nothing to do with the story but they spurned on my writing bone.

All Because of That fish

The small dragon beat his wings furiously as he flew over the open ocean water. He had a particular goal in mind; one that would require -duhh- what exactly? The Gronckle hovered a moment, hacking out a croaking cough and scratching idly behind his ear.

He watched as the other dragons dipped and dived into shallow tide pools along the beaches, intent to capture the trapped fish. The dim thought of doing the same entered his mind; foggily out of reach of his initial attempt to catch the thought.

The tiny Gronckle knew he was the runtiest runt ever to flap a Gronckle wings, but he tried to make due. He'd been like this for years and any hope of growing more had died out. The few times he'd had a clear thought outside the comfortable fog, was to wish to grow larger, but that required more food. Something the small Gronckle couldn't ever seem to catch enough of.

So far, he'd managed. His closer relatives taking pity and catching a second fish -they needed one themselves- the size of the Gronckle's body, which he'd always been cheerful in delivering to the Queen.

The Gronckle loved and feared his Queen in the simple minded way that he functioned. He didn't question why there seemed to be less dragons everyday, and didn't question why the other -more snooty- dragons seemed to have nothing good to say of her. She was huge! How could anyone dislike such a large and powerful Queen? Even the small Gronckle knew his kind didn't like to ask a whole lot of questions, but if there was one thing they would always hold value to; it was power. The larger you were, the more powerful you were. The more powerful you were, the more respected you became… to Gronkcle's anyway.

Today, the little dragon was flying mostly by himself. He couldn't really count the other larger dragons that weren't his kin that were dipping and diving about the area. The green and lumpy Gronckle -he was small but the ladies thought him one of the most handsome- dove down toward the surface of the salty ocean, occasionally flying too close and dipping into the stinging liquid. Gronckle's hated the ocean, their dragon acne usually turned into sores if they weren't licked carefully clean, and salt dripping into the wounds could cause larger Gronckle's to nearly loose their minds in their attempts to find fresh water and wash it off.

Our little Gronckle was not the best fisher, but really, even with his terrible eyesight he could spot a fish. He scanned the water with his beady, misted over eyes and made out the blurry form of a smallish Mackerel. With a splash, he speared the water with his chunky -miniature- arms, his tiny claws pricking like needles into the slippery fish's scales.

And with that, he was pulling up and away. Ecstasy of a job well done flooded the dragons veins. He buzzed his tiny wings harder, incredibly pleased with himself to have caught such a fish by himself. Ah, if only his kin could see-

Knocked nearly senseless and off-kilter, the Gronckle's slow mental processes took a second to catch up and tell him two things. One, something had hit him. Two, that something had taken his fish.

Had the creature -bird or dragon- had stayed long enough for the tiny beast to have seen it, he would have charged it with righteous anger; but as he didn't. There was no one left near him to be angry toward.

Light-heartedly, despite the incident, -Gronckles didn't have much thought to devote to holding a grudge- he flew up toward the beach. He spent the next hour trying to maneuver his way about to find a fish.

The one the gray and green dragon had found was small, smaller than the earlier catch and required patience to catch. But the Gronckle shoved his head in and swallowed it anyway. Nothing was taking this fish away. Cheerfully, the Gronckle began to fly back to the Nest.

He put up with the battering of larger wings about him -even Terrors were larger- in good nature. His mind was too simple to have much thoughts of hate, revenge, and bitterness to the others.

The green Gronckle waited his turn, as dragon after dragon dropped their offerings into the Queens open jaws; somewhere down in the foggy, steamy mist. He buzzed forward energetically, 'The Queen,' his mind called out, 'The Queen!'

He coughed up his prize and dropped it down. Pausing in mid-air to scratch at an itchy scab, not caring about why the other dragon's all drew back, nor why the other's left so quickly after dropping their own contributions.

A deep displeased grumble made him pause, his entire body drooping. The Queen was upset with him? His mind pushed away that thought that managed to penetrate the all-consuming fog. No, she wasn't mad. The small Gronckle's body perked up again, but a moment later there was only darkness surrounding him and he knew no more.

Up on the ledges surrounding the open pit, his kin watched in sadness. Their mind's processing the fact that they had just lost a friend, but not anything beyond that. All of them turned away, except for the minuscule Gronckle's mother, who made a -quite rare- mental leap, 'Perhaps,' she thought, 'it is for the best.'

Her mind went blissfully silent once more, 'The Queen is so beautiful, so strong. We must feed her, to keep her staying strong.'

The Gronckle's roared their affections and took off as one to find more sustenance for their beloved Queen.

Okay, this is kind of important. It is already well known that Gronckle's are very, very stupid. Now, if the Queen in the movie was able to control Toothless into flying to the island, despite Hiccup telling him they needed to leave, imagine what that kind of mental control might feel like to a Gronckle.

Some say ignorance is bliss, and I believe in that statement.

Review for my drabble! Did you all know this is the first time I've tried a drabble? …There is something to be said about me thinking five pages is right length, but stories when I write them do what they like.