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icyandthefrostbites asked:

5 Stalka


Hold my Hand

“Can—ah, I mean, will you—would, would you do me the honor of the next dance?” Stoick pushed the completed sentence from his lips.  He practiced the words as he approached her but they still clunked in his mouth.

He heard Burnthair snicker from two seats over. Stoick refused to look at him, despite his ire and uncomfortably tight collar.

Valka stared at him.

“Me?” she asked.

There were a hundred things Stoick felt he could say, half of which unfairly spurred by the unintended spectators.  He settled on: “Yes.”

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