(no subject)

[himawariedingly]

[This might be a different Russia, but Crayon Land is still the same and there just was no time when the nations didn't like warmth. He has found a crayon lake which is almost as warm as the air and now sits on a crayon stone, his boots next to him, slacks rolled up to his thighs, his feet dangling into the water. If there were sunflowers and if he wasn't alone, it would be perfect.]

...I wonder where I can get something to eat.