Every Generation got it's own disease.
Quietly he walks, pale violet eyes lifting up to the soft gray sky above- boots crushing the whiteness that spanned out from around him. He did not realize the place he was at-- was foreign-- no his attention was more introverted for the moment. Turning his soft eyes upwards as tiny soft flecks wafted downwards from the unending sky above. He could not help but slow his walk- and gently lift his hands half way to the sky, those gloved palms catching but a few of the delicate ice flakes as the immortal yet empty smile along his lips faded.
"Will you not let go?"
((ooc: Take that. EVEN THOUGH IT'S THE DAWN OF SPRING-- in this post HQ's outside will be covered with a random strange stubborn fresh snow. Thank you General Winterfresh. Also this Russia is Cold War Era 8D and uhh Dark!Hetalia, take that however you wish. Come bother Russia 8D; he won't hurt you unless he feels there is a reason to in his warped mind. ))
"Will you not let go?"
((ooc: Take that. EVEN THOUGH IT'S THE DAWN OF SPRING-- in this post HQ's outside will be covered with a random strange stubborn fresh snow. Thank you General Winterfresh. Also this Russia is Cold War Era 8D and uhh Dark!Hetalia, take that however you wish. Come bother Russia 8D; he won't hurt you unless he feels there is a reason to in his warped mind. ))