Never had Canada been happier to see England. He had never really been happy to see him; England still scared him greatly. But now, all his fear was gone.
“ENGLAND!” Canada shouted, running towards him. He clung to England as tightly as he could, trying to prove to himself that he was imagining anything.
England knelt down to hug the frightened Canadian.
“It’s alright now,” he said, petting Canada’s blond hair. “But, where’s your brother?”
Canada let out a squeak, quickly releasing England.
“England, you have to help him!” Canada cried, trying to pull England over to Ameri
Warning!: This contains mentions of witch craft and references to the Salem Witch Trials. Yes, it does deal with what happened to those accused. If your not comfortable, don't read it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The small sandy blonde stood there quivering. He didn’t know how any of this had happened. All he knew was fear, fear and guilt.
“Well do you, witch?” The man before him asked again. He was the monster in this nightmare. Looking up with tear filled blue eyes, he tried to speak, but only a squeak came out.
“Then you best start praying a
England wasted no time in gathering his boots and coat. He didn’t know when the twins left. It was that fact that worried him the most. At the most they had been in the snow for over an hour, and that was way too long in the Brit’s opinion.
He paused at the door, contemplating grabbing two items before him, a lamp and his traveling cloak.
The lamp would mean extra light, making it easier to see, normally. England shook his head. The lamp would be useless in a blizzard. He moved his hand to his cloak. The cloak would mean extra warmth and he could easily wrap it around America and Canada when he found them.
He paused at that tho
They were both going to die, Canada was sure of that now. One way or another they were dead.
Canada had tried to tell America that walking in the snow was a bad idea, that only stupid people did that. He had been saying that since they left, and still his brother had walked on, Canada forced to follow. Now, kneeling in the snow, he wished more than ever he had turned back
A small sob came from next to him. Canada looked over at the source of the noise.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. Please don’t cry,” Canada whispered to his brother. “It’s okay,” he repeated, more for himself.
While they were w
England finished writing his letter. He had long lost count of how many he had written. He didn’t often have time to respond to all the government officials that sent him correspondences. He was usually too busy watching his young colonies.
He looked at the clock that sat in the corner. He had been working for the last hour and a half. England decided that he was allowed a small break.
England sighed as he placed his quill down. He had felt bad about raising his voice to America, but he needed to get some of his large stack of work done. It wasn’t like the boy would have been lonely, he had . . . What was his name again? Canada?
Never had Canada been happier to see England. He had never really been happy to see him; England still scared him greatly. But now, all his fear was gone.
“ENGLAND!” Canada shouted, running towards him. He clung to England as tightly as he could, trying to prove to himself that he was imagining anything.
England knelt down to hug the frightened Canadian.
“It’s alright now,” he said, petting Canada’s blond hair. “But, where’s your brother?”
Canada let out a squeak, quickly releasing England.
“England, you have to help him!” Canada cried, trying to pull England over to Ameri
Warning!: This contains mentions of witch craft and references to the Salem Witch Trials. Yes, it does deal with what happened to those accused. If your not comfortable, don't read it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The small sandy blonde stood there quivering. He didn’t know how any of this had happened. All he knew was fear, fear and guilt.
“Well do you, witch?” The man before him asked again. He was the monster in this nightmare. Looking up with tear filled blue eyes, he tried to speak, but only a squeak came out.
“Then you best start praying a
England wasted no time in gathering his boots and coat. He didn’t know when the twins left. It was that fact that worried him the most. At the most they had been in the snow for over an hour, and that was way too long in the Brit’s opinion.
He paused at the door, contemplating grabbing two items before him, a lamp and his traveling cloak.
The lamp would mean extra light, making it easier to see, normally. England shook his head. The lamp would be useless in a blizzard. He moved his hand to his cloak. The cloak would mean extra warmth and he could easily wrap it around America and Canada when he found them.
He paused at that tho
They were both going to die, Canada was sure of that now. One way or another they were dead.
Canada had tried to tell America that walking in the snow was a bad idea, that only stupid people did that. He had been saying that since they left, and still his brother had walked on, Canada forced to follow. Now, kneeling in the snow, he wished more than ever he had turned back
A small sob came from next to him. Canada looked over at the source of the noise.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. Please don’t cry,” Canada whispered to his brother. “It’s okay,” he repeated, more for himself.
While they were w
England finished writing his letter. He had long lost count of how many he had written. He didn’t often have time to respond to all the government officials that sent him correspondences. He was usually too busy watching his young colonies.
He looked at the clock that sat in the corner. He had been working for the last hour and a half. England decided that he was allowed a small break.
England sighed as he placed his quill down. He had felt bad about raising his voice to America, but he needed to get some of his large stack of work done. It wasn’t like the boy would have been lonely, he had . . . What was his name again? Canada?
On this page, we are two friends who find that sometimes it's better to write together. It makes for some fun and interesting stories. We are both artist and will try to draw pictures to go with any of our stories.
For all the fans of my story Winter's Sorrows, I'm sorry updates haven't been that often. I have the story worked out, just no motivation to write. But have no fear! I have recently invested in RPG Maker XP and as my first real attempt, I'm going to make a game based on it! And don't worry, I still plan on finishing the story too!
I've been working on a story for Hetalia, which I promise will be up soon, but it really makes me think. It's commonly believed in Hetalia that if a country is attacked, the personification can feel it and it's usually painful. I've been working on Pearl Harbor and that made me think of other wars in WWII. If Pearl Harbor was painful for America, I can't imagine what Normandy must have felt like for France, since D-Day was one of the worst battles. And then I can't even remotely begin to understand what Japan must have felt like after Hiroshima. It's lucky he didn't die. That also makes me think of other battles in history. The American Civil