The floor in the Medbay was cooler than Toothless would have liked, but it was hardly relevant. While he did, in most cases, prefer to sleep on warm ground (preferably still steaming, really), he would make do with what he had if it meant he could be present when Hiccup woke up.

As it stood, he was having a terrible time being patient while waiting for the Viking to do just that, and had nearly nudged the boy off the table he was laying on twice now. He padded around the room for the millionth time in the last hour, snuffed at Hiccup's feet, paced, and eventually nudged at the boy's side again, gentler this time so's not to move him. He was pale and he was breathing funny and he'd been out like this for what seemed like forever, and Toothless was fighting a rapidly losing battle with horrified concern over the teenager. Pacing around the room again, he settled briefly on Hiccup's left side and sniffed at his artificial leg. He'd never get used to it. Craning his neck upward, he set his chin upon the table beside Hiccup's still form and huffed, softly, hoping that maybe his worried irritation might speed the boy's recovery.