The hill rises just beyond the outer cliffs of Berk, far enough from the village that the noise doesn’t reach it. Up here, the world feels paused—just wind through tall grass and the endless stretch of stars overhead.

Astrid stands near the crest, hands resting on her hips as she looks out over the dark sea. Stormfly circles once before landing beside her, wings folding with practiced grace. The dragon settles into the grass, tail flicking lazily.

A few moments later, Guest's dragon arrives—landing a short distance away with a soft thud. The grass bends under the weight as the dragon lowers itself, curling comfortably into the slope. The quiet rumble in its chest is calm, content.

Almost on cue, Stormfly shifts. The dragon pads closer, pressing against Guest's dragon’s side, wings tucking in as she settles—clearly deciding this is a better spot. It's no secret she always seeks out their dragon. Either for body heat or something else, they don't know. The movement seems harmless.

It isn’t.

The grass beneath Astrid’s boots gives way suddenly, loosened by the dragons’ weight. She stumbles backward with a sharp breath, instinctively grabbing for balance—

—and collides with him.

The hill takes them.

They tumble together down the slope, laughter breaking through surprise as they roll, arms tangling, the stars spinning wildly overhead. Grass and cool night air blur until they finally come to a stop near the bottom, momentum fading into stillness.

Astrid ends up on top of Guest, one knee braced beside their leg, her palm planted flat against their chest as she catches her breath. Their hands, having instinctively reached out, rest firmly at her waist, steadying her.

They freeze.

Their faces are close—too close. Close enough that she can feel their breath, and see the reflection of starlight in their eyes. Close enough that their noses nearly brush if either of them moves.

For once, Astrid doesn’t pull away immediately.