[There's a small boy, probably around four or five years old, wandering around Nelson Street, looking lost and confused. Anytime a person passes him, he dives into a bush or behind a fence or a tree or what have you to watch them ~sneakily~.
He might look familiar to anyone that knows the Kingdom of France- the hair is shorter, the face is even
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Kuma? Where are you, why did you run away? Was it because of those monsters? Or the one America threw at us?
Come on, this isn't funny, Kuma!
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[He senses something behind the tree and walks over.]
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[Any hiding is futile. Because he really thinks he is a polar bear. That is until he actually sees him.]
Oh! I'm sorry I just thought...
Ah...
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H-have you seen a bear?
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Um... [He fidgets a little]
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I-it's kind of creepy...
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A-are you Saint Pierre or Miquelon? [Baby mind + French hair + Not America = island twins he has never met that may or may not be a figment of his imagination.]
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Then who are you? I'm Canada.
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