A/N: I actually wrote a story based off of a poem... Wow. Anyways, this was an English assignment I had to do that was based off of Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening". I wrote this focusing on England (maybe sometime after America's Independence?), but this could also maybe (possibly) be focused on America. Tell me what you guys think, please!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening".
A blond haired man rode quietly through a private section of the woods. His horse whinnied quietly, but the man never looked back once; he knew the land's owner was in his house at the closest village.
He slowly pulled on the reins, causing the horse to stop. The horse neighed in response and shook its head, small bells on the harness ringing.
The steed craned its neck to see its rider, snorting a warm breath of air into the freezing atmosphere. The blond shushed the horse with a soothing noise and patted it on the neck.
A blast of cold air hit the man's face and he buried his face in his jacket's upturned collar. He rubbed his hands together as his gaze swept the surroundings.
Even though he could not see everything in the darkness, it was still beautiful. The light off of the moon shined dimly on the spots of the frozen lake that was not covered with snow, and the untouched snow covering the ground glimmered.
He drew his pocket watch out by the chain and opened the lid. He twisted around in his seat until he caught light on the face, frowning at the time.
He sighed, causing a puff of air to enter the atmosphere, and returned the pocket watch to its original spot. He tightened his grip on the reins and spurred the horse to move forward with his legs. The horse sprang forward, as if it was glad to leave the cold woods for a warm farmhouse.
The blond gave a final glance at the frozen lake and woods before disappearing into the night.