"Nn," had been what Sweden answered to that theory, but he did take the dog out. It had been nearly an hour since, which was longer than Hana-Tamago's short legs required of daily workout and possibly also longer than the dog actually could walk while keeping up with Sweden's long legs and quick stride. Finland was not surprised when, when he called to ask he was, Sweden had mumbled something that he could only make out as 'V'lmina'.
"Denmark called. He said Sealand is hiding under his deck and won't come out," Finland said in place of asking why in the world Sweden had walked to - well. A near millennium of mostly uninterupted cohabitation had long since taught him that Sweden tended to lose track of his surroundings when he thought too hard about something, and also that Sweden maybe thought too hard about most things. Not that he had been in a much better form himself; the sheer relief that had washed through him at Denmark's call had made him uncomfortably aware of how some irrational instinct had been overruling his reason not very far beneath the surface. "I'll go over and take him home," he said, and hung up without needing to ask Sweden when he would be turning home.
It wasn't long to walk to Denmark's home, parted from the road beside it with a fence that Finland could swing his leg over with relative ease rather than walking around the garden for the gate on the other side. He grimaced as he felt the fabric on the inside of the thigh catch onto something from which it was pulled away before he had the time to really register it, but he didn't stop to check for damage. It wouldn't be something that Sweden couldn't fix, so he ignored it and made his way over to where he spotted Denmark sitting before his front door. He was smoking, and lifted the hand with the cigarette in greeting when he saw Finland. He certainly didn't seem very concerned about a micronation hiding in his garden, but waved Finland over with a grin as he climbed to his feet and came to meet him.
"Did you take away his pocket money or something?"
"No," said Finland, confused, "why?"
Denmark shrugged and took a drag before he put the half-smoked cigarette out against the flat stone that paved the way up to his front door. "Maybe you should talk to him yourself. Just get him out of there sometime tonight - I think he's scaring Hasse away."
"Hasse?"
"I can't think of any better answer unless he was run over. He always comes when I call."
"Right," Finland answered rather than asking any more, and followed Denmark around the corner of the house to the side that was facing west. Denmark went directly over to the deck and rapped his knuckes against the floor in three sharp knocks.
"Hey, Finland's here to get you."
There was no indication that anything at all was hiding behind athe raspberry bushes that had settled beneath the shelter of the raised decking.
"See?" Denmark said, "he's sulking about something."
Finland wasn't so sure he agreed with that, seeing that Sealand very rarely was one to let his disagreements go undheard, but finding out if the boy really was under there took the priority over correcting Denmark's assessment. He leaned forward slightly, as if trying to peer through the foliage. "Sealand? Are you there?"
There was still no answer, and Finland was at loss for what to do.
"Did something happen?" he finally tried, "Papa was worried when you didn't come home at time. He took Hana-Tamago out to look for you, you know - won't you come home? We'll make something nice for supper while we wait for him to get back."
Still nothing. He looked at Denmark and Denmark looked back, rolled his eyes, and slammed his fist onto the deck with enough force to make a flower pot in the corner jump.
"Back when war was the way we did things, I would own your Papa's ass every damn time he tried anything! Don't make me come under there and get you!"
"Denmark called. He said Sealand is hiding under his deck and won't come out," Finland said in place of asking why in the world Sweden had walked to - well. A near millennium of mostly uninterupted cohabitation had long since taught him that Sweden tended to lose track of his surroundings when he thought too hard about something, and also that Sweden maybe thought too hard about most things. Not that he had been in a much better form himself; the sheer relief that had washed through him at Denmark's call had made him uncomfortably aware of how some irrational instinct had been overruling his reason not very far beneath the surface. "I'll go over and take him home," he said, and hung up without needing to ask Sweden when he would be turning home.
It wasn't long to walk to Denmark's home, parted from the road beside it with a fence that Finland could swing his leg over with relative ease rather than walking around the garden for the gate on the other side. He grimaced as he felt the fabric on the inside of the thigh catch onto something from which it was pulled away before he had the time to really register it, but he didn't stop to check for damage. It wouldn't be something that Sweden couldn't fix, so he ignored it and made his way over to where he spotted Denmark sitting before his front door. He was smoking, and lifted the hand with the cigarette in greeting when he saw Finland. He certainly didn't seem very concerned about a micronation hiding in his garden, but waved Finland over with a grin as he climbed to his feet and came to meet him.
"Did you take away his pocket money or something?"
"No," said Finland, confused, "why?"
Denmark shrugged and took a drag before he put the half-smoked cigarette out against the flat stone that paved the way up to his front door. "Maybe you should talk to him yourself. Just get him out of there sometime tonight - I think he's scaring Hasse away."
"Hasse?"
"I can't think of any better answer unless he was run over. He always comes when I call."
"Right," Finland answered rather than asking any more, and followed Denmark around the corner of the house to the side that was facing west. Denmark went directly over to the deck and rapped his knuckes against the floor in three sharp knocks.
"Hey, Finland's here to get you."
There was no indication that anything at all was hiding behind athe raspberry bushes that had settled beneath the shelter of the raised decking.
"See?" Denmark said, "he's sulking about something."
Finland wasn't so sure he agreed with that, seeing that Sealand very rarely was one to let his disagreements go undheard, but finding out if the boy really was under there took the priority over correcting Denmark's assessment. He leaned forward slightly, as if trying to peer through the foliage. "Sealand? Are you there?"
There was still no answer, and Finland was at loss for what to do.
"Did something happen?" he finally tried, "Papa was worried when you didn't come home at time. He took Hana-Tamago out to look for you, you know - won't you come home? We'll make something nice for supper while we wait for him to get back."
Still nothing. He looked at Denmark and Denmark looked back, rolled his eyes, and slammed his fist onto the deck with enough force to make a flower pot in the corner jump.
"Back when war was the way we did things, I would own your Papa's ass every damn time he tried anything! Don't make me come under there and get you!"
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