StrangerStoick hadn't recognized the ship at first. Maybe he hadn't wanted to.He had been out for a stroll that morning and had seen it drifting up across the horizon, its small sails white against the rising sun and the mist, its mast pointing toward Berk like an arrow. It took a while for him to realize what it was. Whose it was. Who could blame him? He hadn't seen that vessel in twelve years, and he'd been sure he never would again up until now.He, Gobber, Spitelout, and six others were there to greet it when it pulled in to shore. It was a small boat. Sturdy. Its sails were painted with the symbol of the chieftain of Berk. Four shields, battered and burned, hung tiredly on its sides. There were scorch marks and holes left and right. It was a broken ship. But he recognized it. Gobber did, too."Stoick," he murmured. Stoick shook his head and Gobber was silent.It seemed like an eternity before the crew disembarked and headed toward the welcomers.She was the last one to get off.