Uh, yeah? I don't know what else you'd call them. Just 'dragons' is too general a term- I mean, I guess it works here because Toothless is the only one but, you know. Back home. There's a big difference between a Night Fury and a Nadder, or a Terrible Terror. [God don't get him started. He could talk about dragons forever. The only reason he manages to stop himself there is because they're fast coming up on- something.

A much bigger room, still dotted with stalactites, dripping with moisture and softly lit by some kind of moss or fungus growing in patches on the walls and ground. Toothless leans up and sniffs at a patch of the lichen, drawing back and cringing. Evidently he doesn't like the smell.]

I guess that tells us not to eat the, uh. Moss? Mold? [Hiccup remarks dryly, holding the lantern a little higher.]