Re: Maybe Smile 3a/?
anonymous
March 21 2010, 20:32:39 UTC
Fortunately, this new arrangement did not disturb the normal flow of things. Soon, England found himself slipping into a heated debate with America over something trivial, stopping only at times to punch France in the face whenever he tried to say something and ignoring Canada’s attempt to placate them. Russia trailed behind silently, leading the horse out of town and towards the forest that lay before their destination.
Even when they entered the forest, monster territory, and the ground grew bumpier and the road faded into nothingness, their journey continued undisturbed. They were not ambushed by bandits or suddenly caught in random encounters with the less-than-pleasant inhabitants of the forest and the day waxed on without a battle.
England imagined that their peaceful state of affairs was not to Russia’s liking, judging from how silent he had remained throughout their travels.
When they finally stopped to take a well-earned lunch break, England took the opportunity to drag Russia off into the bushes, claiming that they would “survey the area for enemies” and left the others as quickly as possible.
Once he was sure that he was out of earshot of the others, England turned back to Russia.
“You haven’t said a word all day,” he glanced at where Russia was surveying the surrounding forest, careful not to wander too far from where he stood.
“Oh?” Russia looked at him and took a seat on the fallen trunk of a tree.
England stood over where Russia sat, hands on hips, with a look of displeasure. “Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” he huffed.
“Ah, it does not matter much to me. I simply have to stay with you.”
England frowned. He was not sure if Russia was being purposefully difficult or simply sincere. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve been silent!”
“You would rather I talk? Loudly, yes? Like America?”
“No!” God forbid, one America was a big enough handful as it was. “It’s just…unnerving when you’re so quiet,” he muttered.
“Then you wish for me to talk because you are scared of me?” Russia asked quietly.
Sensing the tense air, England stiffened his shoulders. “I - I’m not scared of anything! Or anyone!” he stuttered, wishing he too could believe his words.
“Then I don’t understand - ”
“Idiot!”
“I wish that you would not call me that,” Russia’s voice simmered through the air, floating quietly, almost imperceptibly, through the sky whenever he spoke in low tones. “I simply did not feel the need to speak. I wasn’t sure what to say in any case, and I liked watching the four of you. So lively,” he smiled a little, though England thought that Russia was not very good at smiling when he meant it.
“If you had joined in you would probably have enjoyed it more. Although I’m not so sure what’s so enjoyable about arguing,” England added under his breath.
“It looked fun!” Russia insisted. “But…I would not know how to go about it.”
England shifted uncomfortably. Just how had he managed to get into another one of these conversations with Russia?
“I’m not too sure either. I’m not exactly an expert on…these kinds of things,” he replied awkwardly. Truth be told, he was not very good around people either. Even though he often complained about what a bother it was, he could be grateful that he had such well meaning idiots around him to drag him out of his hermit-like existence. He did not really like being lonely after all.
He opened his mouth - to say what, he was not quite sure - perhaps to say something comforting, but in that moment they heard footsteps and both turned, alarmed.
Canada pushed through the undergrowth, smiling when he was them. “England! Russia! There you are. The food is ready!” he called for them to return to the main camp.
Sighing Russia began to slowly rise, but England grabbed his elbow and pulled him up faster than he had intended.
Even when they entered the forest, monster territory, and the ground grew bumpier and the road faded into nothingness, their journey continued undisturbed. They were not ambushed by bandits or suddenly caught in random encounters with the less-than-pleasant inhabitants of the forest and the day waxed on without a battle.
England imagined that their peaceful state of affairs was not to Russia’s liking, judging from how silent he had remained throughout their travels.
When they finally stopped to take a well-earned lunch break, England took the opportunity to drag Russia off into the bushes, claiming that they would “survey the area for enemies” and left the others as quickly as possible.
Once he was sure that he was out of earshot of the others, England turned back to Russia.
“You haven’t said a word all day,” he glanced at where Russia was surveying the surrounding forest, careful not to wander too far from where he stood.
“Oh?” Russia looked at him and took a seat on the fallen trunk of a tree.
England stood over where Russia sat, hands on hips, with a look of displeasure. “Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” he huffed.
“Ah, it does not matter much to me. I simply have to stay with you.”
England frowned. He was not sure if Russia was being purposefully difficult or simply sincere. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve been silent!”
“You would rather I talk? Loudly, yes? Like America?”
“No!” God forbid, one America was a big enough handful as it was. “It’s just…unnerving when you’re so quiet,” he muttered.
“Then you wish for me to talk because you are scared of me?” Russia asked quietly.
Sensing the tense air, England stiffened his shoulders. “I - I’m not scared of anything! Or anyone!” he stuttered, wishing he too could believe his words.
“Then I don’t understand - ”
“Idiot!”
“I wish that you would not call me that,” Russia’s voice simmered through the air, floating quietly, almost imperceptibly, through the sky whenever he spoke in low tones. “I simply did not feel the need to speak. I wasn’t sure what to say in any case, and I liked watching the four of you. So lively,” he smiled a little, though England thought that Russia was not very good at smiling when he meant it.
“If you had joined in you would probably have enjoyed it more. Although I’m not so sure what’s so enjoyable about arguing,” England added under his breath.
“It looked fun!” Russia insisted. “But…I would not know how to go about it.”
England shifted uncomfortably. Just how had he managed to get into another one of these conversations with Russia?
“I’m not too sure either. I’m not exactly an expert on…these kinds of things,” he replied awkwardly. Truth be told, he was not very good around people either. Even though he often complained about what a bother it was, he could be grateful that he had such well meaning idiots around him to drag him out of his hermit-like existence. He did not really like being lonely after all.
He opened his mouth - to say what, he was not quite sure - perhaps to say something comforting, but in that moment they heard footsteps and both turned, alarmed.
Canada pushed through the undergrowth, smiling when he was them. “England! Russia! There you are. The food is ready!” he called for them to return to the main camp.
Sighing Russia began to slowly rise, but England grabbed his elbow and pulled him up faster than he had intended.
“Shall we start by eating together?”
Reply
Reply
Reply
Please do continue, Writer!anon. I'll be camping here...
Reply
Leave a comment